Library  of  W.  i.  Merrill 

No. .4^. 

Date,     ^"^U^yp^  i2.y   /^  /    /^(T^'^C*^ 

W • 

C08t,.../^i|L, 


"  A  library  is  like  a  lexicon :  a  volume  lent  Is  a  page  gone.'' 


^ 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 


IN  MEMORY  OF 

PROFESSOR  WILLIAM  MERRILL 

AND 

MRS.  IMOGENE  MERRILL 


UNDINE. 


UNDINE 


AND    OTHER   TALES 


FRIEDRICH,  BARON    DE   LA  MOTTE   FOUQUE 


UNDINE,  THE  TWO  CAPTAINS,  ASLAUGA'S  KNIGHT, 
SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS 


With  Illustrations  by  H.  IV.  Herrick 


NEW    YORK 

PUBLISHED   BY  HURD   AND   HOUGHTON 

C^amfiritiffe:  ®:]be  Etbemtie  Presc 

1878 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1867,  by 

HURD   AND   IIOCTGHTON, 

the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District  of 
New  York. 


-S^  ^MoO-^^N    ^ 


GIFT 


RIVERSIDE,    CAMBRIDGE: 

•TEREOTYPED    AND    PRINTED    BT 

U.    0.    HOUGHTON    AND    COMPANY 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAOl 

How  THE  Knight  came  to  thk  Fishersian's  Cottage         1 
CHAPTER  H. 

How    UXDIN'E    FIRST    CAME   TO   THE    FiSHERMAN         .  .  9 

CHAPTER   HI. 
How  THEY  fou:nd  Undine  again 16 

CHAPTER   LV. 
Of  what  had  befallen  the  Knight  in  the  Forest         21 

CHAPTER  V. 
Of  the  Life  wnicri  the  Knight  led  on  the  Island  .      29 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Op  a  Bridal .  35 

CHAPTER  VII. 
How  the  rest  of  the  Evening  passed  away       .  42 

CHAPTER  VIH. 
The  Day  after  the  Marrcage 46 

CHAPTER  IX. 
How  THE  Knight  and  his  young  Bride  departed      .      53 


f/iwao^s 


IV  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  X. 

PAOl 

Of  theik  Way  of  Lifk  in  the  Town  ....          59 

CHAPTER  XL 
Bertalda's  Birthday  .        .        .        .        .        .        .        .64 


CHAPTER  XH. 

How   THEY    LEFT   THE    ImPEUIAL   CiTY        ....  71 

CHAPTER  XHI. 

How   THEY    LIVED    IN   THE    CasTLE   OF   RiNGSTETTEN  76 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
How  Bertalda  drove  Home  with  the  Knight        .  85 

CHAPTER  XV. 
The  Trip  to  Vienna 93 

CHAPTER   XVI 
Of  wriAT  befell  Huldbrand  afterwards         .        .        100 

CHAPTER  XVJI. 
The  Knight's  Dream 105 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
Of  the  Knight  Huldbrand's  second  Bridal    .        .        108 

CHAPTER   XIX. 
How  the  Knight  Huldbrand  was  Interred         .        .    114 


UNDINE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

HOW   THE    KNIGHT    CAME    TO    THE    FISHERMAN*8 
COTTAGE. 

Once  —  it  may  be  some  hundreds  of  years  ago  — 
there^  lived  a  good  old  Fisherman,  who,  on  a  fine 
summer's  evening,  was  sitting  before  the  door 
mending  his  nets.  He  dwelt  in  a  land  of  exceed- 
ing beauty.  The  green  slope,  upon  which  he  had 
built  his  hut,  stretched  far  out  into  a  great  lake ; 
and  it  seemed  either  that  the  cape,  enamored  of 
the  glassy  blue  waters,  had  pressed  forward  into 
their  bosom,  or  that  the  lake  had  lovingly  folded  in 
its  arms  the  blooming  promontory,  with  her  waving 
grass  and  flowers,  and  the  refreshing  shade  of  her 
tall  trees.  Each  bade  the  other  welcome,  and  in- 
creased its  own  beauty  by  so  doing.  This  lovely 
nook  was  scarcely  ever  visited  by  mankind,  except 
by  the  Fisherman  and  his  family.  For  behind  the 
promontory  lay  a  very  wild  forest,  which,  besides 
being  gloomy  and  pathless,  had  too  bad  a  name  as 
1 


2  UNDINE. 

the  resort  of  wondrous  spirits  and  goblins,  to  be 
crossed  by  any  one  who  could  help  it.  Yet  the 
pious  old  Fisherman  went  through  it  without  being 
molested,  whenever  he  walked  to  a  large  city  beyond 
the  forest,  to  dispose  of  the  costly  fish  that  he  cauglit 
in  the  lake.  For  him,  indeed,  there  was  little  danger, 
even  in  that  forest ;  for  his  thoughts  were  almost  all 
thoughts  of  devotion,  and  his  custom  was  to  carol 
forth  to  Heaven  a  loud  and  heartfelt  hymn,  on  first 
setting  foot  within  the  treacherous  shades. 

As  he  sat  this  evening  most  peacefully  over  his 
nets,  he  was  startled  in  an  unwonted  manner  by  a 
rustling  sound  in  the  forest,  like  that  of  a  man  and 
horse ;  and  the  noise  came  nearer  and  nearer.  The 
dreams  he  had  had  in  many  a  stormy  night  of  the 
spirits  of  the  forest  started  up  before  his  mind,  par- 
ticularly the  image  of  a  gigantic  long  snow-white 
man,  who  kept  nodding  his  head  mysteriously.  Nay, 
as  he  raised  his  eyes  and  looked  into  the  forest,  he 
could  fancy  he  saw,  through  the  thick  screen  of 
leaves,  the  nodding  creature  advance  toward  him. 
But  he  soon  composed  himself,  recollecting  that 
even  in  the  h^art  of  the  woods  nothing  had  ever 
befallen  him ;  much  less  here,  in  the  open  air,  could 
the  bad  spirits  have  power  to  touch  him.  He  more- 
over repeated  a  text  from  the  Bible  aloud  and  ear- 
nestly, which  quite  restored  his  courage,  and  he 
almost  laughed  to  see  how  his  fancy  had  misled  him. 
The  white  nodding  man  suddenly  resolved  himself 
into  a  little  brook  he  knew  of  old,  which   gushed 


UNDINE.  3 

bubbling  out  of  the  wood,  and  emptied  itself  into 
the  lake.  And  the  rustling  'had  been  caused  by  a 
horseman  in  gorgeous  attire,  who  now  came  forward 
toward  the  hut  from  beneath  tshe  trees. 

He  wore  a  scarlet  mantle  over  his  purple,  gold- 
embroidered  jerkin  ;  a  plume  of  red  and  purple 
feathers  waved  over  his  gold-colored  barret-cap ; 
and  from  his  golden  belt  hung  a  glittering  jeweled 
sword.  The  white  courser  which  carried  him  was 
of  lighter  make  than  the  generality  of  chargers,  and 
trod  so  airily,  that  the  enameled  turf  seemed 
scarcely  to  bend  under  him.  The  aged  Fisherman 
could  not  quite  shake  off  his  uneasiness,  although  he 
told  himself  that  so  noble  a  guest  could  bring  him 
no  harm,  and  accordingly  doffed  his  hat  courteously, 
and  interrupted  his  work  when  he  approached. 

The  Knight  reined  in  his  horse,  and  asked  whether 
they  could  both  obtain  One  night's  shelter. 

"  As  to  your  horse,  good  sir,"  answered  the  Fish- 
erman, "  I  have  no  better  stable  to  offer  him  than 
the  shady  meadow,  and  no  provender  but  the  grass 
which  grows  upon  it.  But  you  shall  yourself  be 
heartily  welcome  to  my  poor  house,  and  to  the  best 
of  my  supper  and  night  lodging." 

The  stranger  seemed  quite  content;  he  dis- 
mounted, and  they  helped  each  other  to  take  off  the 
horse's  girth  and  saddle,  after  which  the  Knight  let 
him  graze  on  the  flowery  pasture,  saying  to  his  host, 
"  Even  if  I  had  found  you  less  kind  and  hospitable, 
ny  good  old  man,  you  must  have  borne  with  me  till 


4  JNDINE. 

to-morrow  ;  for  I  see  we  are  shut  m  by  a  wide  lake, 
and  Heaven  forbid  that  I  should  cross  the  haunted 
forest  again  at  nightfall ! " 

"  We  will  not  say  much  about  that,"  replied  the 
Fisherman  ;  and  he  led  his  guest  into  the  cottage. 

There,  close  by  the  hearth,  from  whence  a  scanty 
jfire  shed  its  glimmering  light  over  the  clean  little 
room,  sat  the  Fisherman's  old  wife.  When  their  no- 
ble guest  came  in,  she  rose  to  give  him  a  kind  wel 
come,  but  immediately  resumed  her  place  of  honor, 
without  offering  it  to  him ;  and  the  Fisherman  said 
with  a  smile :  "  Do  not  take  it  amiss,  young  sir,  if 
she  does  not  give  up  to  you  the  most  comfortable 
place  ;  it  is  the  custom  among  us  poor  people,  that 
it  should  always  belong  to  the  oldest." 

"  Why,  husband  !  "  said  his  wife  quietly,  "  what 
are  you  thinking  of?  Our  guest  is  surely  a  Christian 
gentleman,  and  how  could  it  come  into  his  kind 
young  heart  to  turn  old  people  out  of  their  places  ? 
Sit  down,  my  young  lord,"  added  she,  turning  to 
the  Knight ;  "  there  stands  a  very  comfortable  chair 
for  you  ;  only  remember  it  must  not  be  too  roughly 
handled,  for  one  leg  is  not  so  steady  as  it  has  been." 
The  Knight  drew  the  chair  carefully  forward,  seated 
himself  sociably,  and  soon  felt  quite  at  home  in  this 
little  household,  and  as  if  he  had  just  returned  jo  it 
from  a  far  journey. 

The  three  friends  began  to  converse  openly  and 
familiarly  together.  First  the  Knight  asked  a  few 
questions  about  the  forest,  but  the  old  man  would 


UNDINE.  t 

not  say  much  of  that ;  least  of  all,  said  he,  was  it  fit- 
ting to  talk  of  such  things  at  nightfall ;  but,  on 
household  concerns,  and  their  own  way  of  life,  the 
old  folks  talked  readily ;  and  were  pleased  when  the 
Knight  told  them  of  his  travels,  and  that  he  had  a 
castle  near  the  source  of  the  Danube,  and  that  his 
name  was  Lord  Huldbrand  of  Ringstetten.  In  the 
middle  of  their  discourse,  the  stranger  often  observed 
a  noise  outside  the  small  window,  as  if  some  one 
were  dashing  water  against  it.  The  old  man  knit 
his  brows  and  looked  grave  whenever  this  occurred ; 
at  last,  when  a  great  splash  of  water  came  full 
against  the  panes,  and  some  found  its  way  into  the 
room,  he  could  bear  it  no  longer,  but  started  up, 
crying,  "  Undine !  will  you  never  leave  off  these 
childish  tricks,  —  when  we  have  a  stranger  gentle- 
man in  the  house  too  !  "  This  produced  silence 
outside,  all  but  a  sound  of  suppressed  giggling,  and 
the  Fisherman  said  as  he  came  back  :  "  My  honored 
guest,  you  nmst  put  up  with  this,  and  perhaps  with 
many  another  piece  of  mischief;  but  she  means  no 
harm.  It  is  our  adopted  child  Undine  ;  there  is  no 
breaking  her  of  her  childish  ways,  though  she  is 
eighteen  years  old  now.  But  as  I  told  you  she  is  as 
good  a  child  as  ever  lived,  at  bottom." 

"  Ay,  so  you  may  say  ! "  rejoined  his  wife,  shaking 
her  head.  "  When  you  come  home  from  fishing,  or 
from  a  journey,  her  playful  nonsense  may  be  pleas- 
ant enough.  But,  to  be  keeping  her  out  of  mis- 
chief all  day  long,  as  I  must  do,  and  never  get  a 


6  UNDINE. 

word  of  sense  from  her,  nor  a  bit  of  help  and  com 
fort  in  my  old  age,  is  enough  to  weary  the  patience 
of  a  saint." 

"Well,  well,"  said  the  good  man,  "you  feel  to- 
ward Undine  as  I  do  toward  the  lake.  Though 
its  waves  are  apt  enough  to  burst  my  banks  and  my 
nets,  yet  I  love  them  for  all  that,  and  so  do  you  love 
our  pretty  wench,  with  all  her  plaguy  tricks.  Don't 
you  ?  " 

"  Why,  one  cannot  be  really  angry  with  her,  to  be 
sure,"  said  the  dame  smiling.  ^ 

Here  the  door  flew  open,  and  a  beautiful  fair  creat- 
ure tripped  in,  and  said,  playfully :  "  Well,  father, 
you  made  game  of  me  ;  where  is  your  guest  V  The 
next  moment  she  perceived  the  Knight,  and  stood 
fixed  in  mute  admiration  ;  while  Huldbrand  gazed 
upon  her  lovely  form,  and  tried  to  impress  her  image 
on  his  mind,  thinking  that  he  must  avail  himself  of 
her  amazement  to  do  so,  and  that  in  a  moment  she 
would  shrink  away  in  a  fit  of  bashfulness.  But  it 
proved  otherwise.  After  looking  at  him  a  good 
while,  she  came  up  to  him  familiarly,  knelt  down 
beside  him,  and  playing  with  a  golden  medal  that 
hung  from  his  rich  chain,  she  said  :  "  So,  thou  kind, 
thou  beautiful  guest !  hast  thou  found  us  out  in  our 
poor  hut  at  last  ?  Why  didst  thou  roam  the  world 
so  many  years  without  coming  near  us  ?  Art  come 
through  the  wild  forest,  my  handsome  friend  ? " 
The  old  woman  allowed  him  no  time  to  answer. 
She  desired  her  to  get  up  instantly,  like  a  modest 


undine;.  7 

girl,  and  to  set  about  her  work.  But  Undine,  with- 
out replying,  fetched  a  footstool  and  put  it  close  to 
Huldbrand's  chair,  sat  down  there  with  her  spinning, 
and  said  cheerfully,  —  "I  will  sit  and  work  here." 
The  old  man  behaved  as  parents  are  apt  to  do  with 
spoilt  children.  He  pretended  not  to  see  Undine's 
waywardness,  and  was  beginning  to  talk  of  some- 
thing else  ;  but  she  would  not  let  him.  She  said, 
"  I  asked  -our  visitor  where  he  came  from,  and  he 
has  not  answered  me  yet." 

"  From  the  forest  I  came,  you  beautiful  sprite," 
answered  Huldbrand  ;  and  she  continued  :  — 

"  Then  you  must  tell  me  how  you  came  there,  and 
what  wonderful  adventures  you  had  in  it,  for  I  know 
that  nobody  can  escape  without  some." 

Huldbrand  could  not  help  shuddering  on  be- 
ing reminded  of  his  adventures,  and  involuntarily 
glanced  at  the  window,  half  expecting  to  see  one  of 
the  strange  beings  he  had  encountered  in  the  forest 
grinning  at  him  through  it ;  but  nothing  was  to  be 
seen  except  the  deep  black  night,  which  had  now 
closed  in.  He  recollected  himself,  and  was  just  be- 
ginning his  narrative,  when  the  old  man  interposed : 
"  Not  just  now.  Sir  Knight ;  this  is  no  time  for  such 
tales." 

But  Undine  jumped  up  passionately,  put  her  beau- 
tiful arms  akimbo,  and  standing  before  the  Fisher- 
man, exclaimed  :  "  What !  may  not  he  tell  his  story, 
father —  may  not  he?  But  I  will  have  it ;  he  must! 
He  shall  indeed !  "     And  she  stamped  angrily  with 


8  UNDINE. 

her  pretty  feet,  but  it  was  all  done  in  so  comical  and 
graceful  a  manner,  that  Huldbrand  thought  her  still 
more  bewitching  in  her  wrath,  than  in  her  playful 
mood. 

Not  so  the  old  man  ;  his  long-restrained  anger 
burst  out  uncontrolled.  He  scolded  Undine  smartly 
for  her  disobedience,  and  unmannerly  conduct  to 
the  stranger,  his  wife  chiming  in. 

Undine  then  said  :  "  Very  well,  if  you  will  be 
quarrelsome,  and  not  let  me  have  my  own  way,  you 
may  sleep  alone  in  your  smoky  old  hut  I "  and  she 
shot  through  the  door  like  an  arrow,  and  rushedinto 
the  dark  night. 


CHAPTER   11. 

HOW    UNDINE    FIRST    CAME    TO    THE    FISHERMAN. 

HuLDBRAND  and  the  Fisherman  sprang  from 
their  seats,  and  tried  to  catch  the  angry  maiden  ; 
but  before  they  could  reach  the  house  door,  Undine 
had  vanished  far  into  the  thick  shades,  and  not  a 
sound  of  her  light  footsteps  was  to  be  heard,  by 
which  to  track  her  course.  Huldbrand  looked 
doubtfully  at  his  host ;  he  almost  thought  that  the 
whole  fair  vision  which  had  so  suddenly  plunged 
into  the  night,  must  be  a  continuation  of  the  phan- 
tom play  which  had  whirled  around  him  in  his  pas- 
sage through  the  forest.  But  the  old  man  mumbled 
through  his  teeth  :  "  It  is  not  the  first  time  she  has 
served  us  so.  And  here  are  we,  left  in  our  anxiety, 
with  a  sleepless  night  before  us ;  for  who  can  tell 
what  harm  may  befall  her,  all  alone  out-of-doors  till 
daybreak  ?  " 

"  Then  let  us  be  after  her,  good  father,  for  God's 
sake  ! "  cried  Huldbrand,  eagerly. 

The  old  man  replied,  "  Where  would  be  the  use  ? 
It  were  a  sin  to  let  you  set  off  alone  in  pursuit  of 
the  foolish  girl,  and  my  old  legs  would  never  over- 
take such  a  Will-with-the-wisp  —  even  if  we  could 
guess  which  way  she  is  gone.'* 


10  UNDINE. 

"  At  least  let  us  call  her,  and  beg  her  to  come 
back,"  said  Hiildbraiid ;  and  he  began  calling  after 
her  in  most  moving  tones :  "  Undine !  0  Undine  ! 
do  return  ! " 

The  old  man  shook  his  head,  and  said  that  all  the 
shouting  in  the  world  would  do  no  good  with  such  a 
willful  little  thing.  But  yet  he  could  not  himself 
help  calling  out  from  time  to  time  in  the  darkness : 
*'  Undine  !  ah,  sweet  Undine !  I  entreat  thee,  come 
back  this  once." 

The  Fisherman's  words  proved  true.  Nothing 
was  to  be  seen  or  heard  of  Undine  ;  and  as  her  fos- 
ter-father would  by  no  means  suffer  Huldbrand  to 
pursue  her,  they  had  nothing  for  it  but  to  go  in 
again.  They  found  the  fire  on  the  hearth  nearly 
burnt  out,  and  the  dame,  who  did  not  take  to  heart 
Undine's  flight  and  danger  so  much  as  her  husband, 
5vas  gone  to  bed.  The  old  man  blew  the  coals,  laid 
on  dry  wood,  and  by  the  light  of  the  reviving  flames 
he  found  a  flagon  of  wine,  which  he  put  between 
himself  and  his  guest.  "  You  are  uneasy  about  that 
silly  wench,  Sir  Knight,"  said  he,  "  and  we  had  bet- 
ter kill  part  of  the  night  chatting  and  drinking,  than 
toss  about  in  our  beds,  trying  to  sleep  in  vain.  Had 
not  we  ?  " 

Huldbrand  agreed  ;  the  Fisherman  made  him  sit 
in  his  wife's  empty  arm-chair,  and  they  both  drank 
and  talked  together,  as  a  couple  of  worthy  friends 
should  do.  Whenever,  indeed,  there  was  the  least 
stir  outside  the  window,  or  even  sometimes  without 


UNDINE.  11 

any,  one  of  them  would  look  up  and  say,  "There 
she  comes."  Then  they  would  keep  silence  for  a  few 
moments,  and  as  nothing  came,  resume  their  conver- 
sation, with  a  shake  of  the  head  and  a  sigh. 

But  as  neither  could  think  of  much  besides  Un- 
dine, the  best  means  they  could  devise  for  beguiling 
the  time  was,  that  the  Fisherman  should  relate,  and 
the  Knight  listen  to,  the  history  of  her  first  coming 
to  the  cottage.     He  began  as  follows  :  — 

"  One  day,  some  fifteen  years  ago,  I  was  carrying 
my  fish  through  that  dreary  wood  to  the  town.  My 
wife  stayed  at  home,  as  usual ;  and  at  that  time  she 
had  a  good  and  pretty  reason  for  it ;  —  the  Lord  had 
bestowed  upon  us  (old  as  we  already  were)  a  lovely 
babe.  It  was  a  girl ;  and  so  anxious  were  we  to  do 
our  best  for  the  little  treasure,  that  we  began  to  talk 
of  leaving  our  beautiful  home,  in  order  to  give  our 
darling  a  good  education  among  other  human  beings. 
With  us  poor  folks,  wishing  is  one  thing,  and  doing 
is  quite  another.  Sir  Knight ;  but  what  then  ?  we 
can  only  try  our  best.  Well  then,  as  I  plodded  on, 
I  turned  over  the  scheme  in  my  head.  I  was  loth 
to  leave  our  own  dear  nook,  and  it  made  me  shudder 
to  think,  in  the  din  and  brawls  of  the  town,  So  it 
is  here  we  shall  soon  live,  or  in  some  place  nearly  as 
bad !  Yet  I  never  murmured  against  our  good  God, 
but  rather  thanked  Him  in  secret  for  His  last  bless- 
ing ;  nor  can  I  say  that  I  met  with  any  thing  extraor- 
dinary in  the  forest,  either  coming  or  going ;  indeed 
nothing  to  frighten  me  has  ever  crossed  my  path. 
The  Lord  was  ever  with  me  in  the  awful  shades." 


12  UNDINE. 

Here  he  uncovered  his  bald  head,  and  sat  for  f 
time  in  silent  prayer ;  then  putting  his  cap  on  again, 
he  continued :  "  On  this  side  of  the  wood  it  was,  — 
on  this  side,  that  the  sad  news  met  me.  My  wife 
came  toward  me  with  eyes  streaming  like  two 
fountains ;  she  was  in  deep  mourning.  *  Oh,  good 
H(»aven ! '  I  called  out,  '  where  is  our  dear  child  ? 
Tell  me?' 

"  '  Gone,  dear  husband,'  she  replied  ;  and  we  went 
into  our  cottage  together,  weeping  silently.  I  looked 
for  the  little  corpse,  and  then  first  heard  how  it  had 
happened.  My  wife  had  been  sitting  on  the  shore 
with  the  child,  and  playing  with  it,  all  peace  and 
happiness  ;  when  the  babe  all  at  once  leaned  over,  as 
if  she  saw  something  most  beautiful  in  the  water ; 
there  she  sat  smiling,  sweet  angel !  and  stretching 
out  her  little  hands ;  but  the  next  moment  she  darted 
suddenly  out  of  her  arms,  and  down  into  the  smooth 
waters.  I  made  much  search  for  the  poor  little 
corpse ;  but  in  vain ;  not  a  trace  of  her  could  I 
find. 

"  When  evening  was  come,  we  childless  parents 
were  sitting  together  in  the  hut,  silent ;  neither  of  us 
had  a  mind  to  speak,  even  if  the  tears  had  let  us. 
We  were  looking  idly  into  the  fire.  Just  then  some- 
thing made  a  noise  at  the  door.  It  opened,  and  a 
beautiful  little  maid,  of  three  or  four  years  old, 
stood  there  gayly  dressed,  and  smiling  in  our  faces. 
We  were  struck  dumb  with  surprise,  and  at  first 
hardly  knew  if  she  were  a  little  human   being,  or 


UNDINE.  18 

only  an  empty  shadow.  But  I  soon  saw  that  her 
golden  hair  and  gay  clothes  were  dripping  wet,  and  it 
struck  me  the  little  fairy  must  have  been  in  the 
water,  and  distressed  for  help.  *  Wife,'  said  I,  *  our 
dear  child  had  no  friend  to  save  her ;  shall  we  not 
do  for  others  what  would  have  made  our  remaining 
days  so  happy,  if  any  one  had  done  it  for  us  ?  '  "We 
undressed  the  child,  put  her  to  bed,  and  gave  her  a 
warm  drink,  while  she  never  said  a  word,  but  kept 
smiling  at  us  with  her  sky-bkie  eyes. 

"  The  next  morning  we  found  that  she  had  done 
herself  no  harm  ;  and  I  asked  her  who  were  her 
parents,  and  what  had  brought  her  here ;  but  she 
gave  me  a  strange,  confused  answer.  I  am  sure  she 
must  have  been  born  far  away,  for  these  fifteen  years 
have  we  kept  her,  without  ever  finding  out  where  she 
came  from  ;  and  besides,  she  is  apt  to  let  drop  such 
marvelous  things  in  her  talk,  that  you  might  think 
she  had  lived  in  the  moon.  She  will  speak  of  golden 
castles,  of  crystal  roofs,  and  I  can't  tell  what  besides. 
The  only  thing  she  has  told  us  clearly,  is,  that  as  she 
was  sailing  on  the  lake  with  her  mother,  she  fell  into 
the  water,  and  when  she  recovered  her  senses  found 
herself  lying  under  these  trees,  in  safety  and  comfort, 
upon  our  pretty  shore. 

"  So  now  we  had  a  serious,  anxious  charge  thrown 
upon  us.  To  keep  and  bring  up  the  foundling,  in- 
stead of  our  poor  drowned  child,  —  that  was  soon 
resolved  upon  ;  but  who  should  tell  us  if  she  had 
yet  been  baptized  or  no  ?     She  knew  not  how  to  an- 


14  UNDINE. 

swer  the  question.  That  she  was  one  of  God's  creat- 
ures, made  for  His  glory  and  service,  that  much  she 
knew ;  and  any  thing  that  would  glorify  and  please 
Him,  she  was  willing  to  have  done.  So  my  wife 
and  I  said  to  each  other :  '  If  she  has  never  been 
baptized,  there  is  no  doubt  it  should  be  done ;  and 
if  she  has,  better  do  too  much  than  too  little,  in  a 
matter  of  such  consequence.'  We  therefore  began 
to  seek  a  good  name  for  the  child.  Dorothea  seemed 
to  us  the  best;  for  I  had  onfee  heard  that  meant 
God's  gift;  and  she  had  indeed  been  sent  us  by 
Him  as  a  special  blessing,  to  comfort  us  in  our 
misery.  But  she  would  not  hear  of  that  name.  She 
said  Undine  was  what  her  parents  used  to  call  her, 
and  Undine  she  would  still  be.  That,  I  thought, 
sounded  like  a  heathen  name,  and  occurred  in  no 
Calendar  ;  and  I  took  counsel  with  a  priest  in  the 
town  about  it.  He  also  objected  to  the  name  Un- 
dine ;  and  at  my  earnest  request,  came  home  with 
me,  through  the  dark  forest,  in  order  to  baptize  her. 
The  little  creature  stood  before  us,  looking  so  gay 
and  charming  in  her  holiday  clothes,  that  the  priest's 
heart  warmed  toward  her ;  and  what  with  coaxing 
and  willfulness,  she  got  the  better  of  him,  so  that  he 
clean  forgot  all  the  objections  he  had  thought  of  to 
the  name  Undine.  She  was  therefore  so  christened, 
and  behaved  particularly  well  and  decently  during 
the  sacred  rite,  wild  and  unruly  as  she  had  always 
been  before.  For,  what  my  wife  said  just  now  was 
too  true  —  we  have  indeed  found  her  the  wildest 
little  fairy  !     If  I  were  to  tell  you  all "  — 


UNDINE.  15 

Here  the  Knight  interrupted  the  Fisherman,  to 
call  his  attention  to  a  sound  of  roaring  waters,  which 
he  had  noticed  already  in  the  pauses  of  the  old 
man's  speech,  and  which  now  rose  in  fury  as  it 
rushed  past  the  windows.  They  both  ran  to  the 
door.  By  the  light  of  the  newly  risen  moon,  they 
saw  the  brook  which  gushed  out  of  the  forest  break- 
ing wildly  over  its  banks,  and  whirling  along  stones 
and  branches  in  its  eddying  course.  A  storm,  as  if 
awakened  by  the  uproar,  burst  from  the  heavy  clouds 
that  were  chasing  each  other  across  the  moon  ;  the 
lake  howled  under  the  wings  of  the  wind ;  the  trees 
on  the  shore  groaned  from  top  to  bottom,  and  bowed 
themselves  over  the  rushing  waters.  "  Undine  !  for 
God's  sake,  Undine  ! "  cried  the  Knight,  and  the  old 
man.  No  answer  was  to  be  heard;  and,  heedless 
now  of  any  danger  to  themselves,  they  ran  off  in 
different  directions,  calling  her  in  frantic  anxiety. 


CHAPTER  III. 

HOW   THEY   FOUND    UNDINE    AGAIN. 

The  longer  Huldbrand  wandered  in  vain  pursuit 
of  Undine,  the  more  bewildered  he  became.  The 
idea  that  she  might  be  a  mere  spirit  of  the  woods, 
sometimes  returned  upon  him  with  double "  force  ; 
nay,  amid  the  howling  of  waves  and  storm,  thfe- 
groaning  of  trees,  and  the  wild  commotion  of  the 
once-peaceful  spot,  he  might  have  fancied  the  whole 
promontory,  its  hut  and  its  inhabitants,  to  be  a  delu- 
sion of  magic,  but  that  he  still  heard  in  the  distance 
the  Fisherman's  piteous  cries  of  "  Undine  !  "  and 
the  old  housewife's  loud  prayers  and  hymns,  above 
the  whistling  of  the  blast. 

At  last  he  found  himself  on  the  margin  of  the 
overflowing  stream,  and  saw  it  by  the  moonlight 
rushing  violently  along,  close  to  the  edge  of  the 
mysterious  forest,  so  as  to  make  an  island  of  the 
peninsula  on  which  he  stood.  "  Gracious  Heaven  ! " 
thought  he,  "  Undine  may  have  ventured  a  step  or 
two  into  that  awful  forest,  —  perhaps  in  her  pretty 
waywardness,  just  because  T  would  not  tell  her  my 
story  —  and  the  swoln  stream  has  cut  her  off,  and 
left  her  weeping  alone  among  the  spectres  ! "     A  cry 


UNDINE.  17 

of  terror  escaped  him,  and  he  clambered  down  the 
bank  by  means  of  some  stones  and  fallen  trees, 
hoping  to  wade  or  swim  across  the  flood,  and  seek 
the  fugitive  beyond  it.  Fearful  and  unearthly  visions 
did  indeed  float  before  him,  like  those  he  had  met 
with  in  the  moniing,  beneath  these  groaning,  tossing 
branches.  Especially  he  was  haunted  by  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  tall  white  man,  whom  he  remembered 
but  too  well,  grinning  and  nodding  at  him  from  the 
opposite  bank ;  however,  the  thought  of  these  grim 
monsters  did  but  urge  him  onward  as  he  recol- 
lected '.Ijndine,*  now  perhaps  in  deadly  fear  among 
them,  and  alone. 

He  had  laid  hold  of  a  stout  pine  branch,  and 
leaning  on  it,  was  standing  in  the  eddy,  though 
scarcely  able  to  stem  it,  but  he  stepped  boldly  for- 
ward —  when  a  sweet  voice  exclaimed  close  behind 
him:  "Trust  him  not  —  trust  not !  The  old  fellow 
is  tricksy  —  the  stream  !  " 

Well  he  knew  those  silver  tones :  the  moon  was 
just  disappearing  behind  a  cloud,  and  he  stood  amid 
the  deepening  shades,  made  dizzy  as  the  water  shot 
by  him  with  the  speed  of  an  arrow.  Yet  he  would 
not  desist.  "  And  if  thou  art  not  truly  there,  if  thou 
flittest  before  me  an  empty  shadow,  I  care  not  to 
live;  I  will  melt  into  air  like  thee,  my  beloved  Un- 
dine ! "  This  he  cried  aloud,  and  strode  further 
into  the  flood. 

"  Look  round  then,  —  look  round,  fair  youth  !  " 
he  heard  just  behind  him,  and  looking  round,  he  "be- 
2 


18  UNDINE. 

held  by  the  returning  moonbeams,  on  a  fair  island 
left  by  the  flood,  under  some  thickly  interlaced 
branches.  Undine  all  smiles  and  loveliness,  nestling 
in  the  flowery  grass.  How  nmch  more  joyfully  than 
before  did  the  young  man  use  his  pine  staff  to  cross 
the  waters  !  A  few  strides  brought  him  through  the 
flood  that  had  parted  them ;  and  he  found  himself 
at  her  side,  on  the  nook  of  soft  grass,  securely 
sheltered  under  the  shade  of  the  old  trees.  Undine 
half  arose,  and  twined  her  arms  round  his  neck  in 
the  green  arbor,  making  him  sit  down  by  her  on  the 
turf.  "  Here  you  shall  tell  me  all,  my  own  friend," 
said  she  in  a  low  whisper ;  "  the  cross  old  folks  can- 
not overhear  us.  And  our  pretty  bower  of  leaves 
is  well  worth  their  wretched  hut." 

"  This  is  heaven ! "  cried  Huldbrand,  as  he 
clasped  in  his  arms  the  beautiful  flatterer. 

Meantime  the  old  man  had  reached  the  banks  of 
the  stream,  and  he  called  out :  "  So,  Sir  Knight, 
when  I  had  made  you  welcome,  as  one  honest  man 
should  another,  here  are  you  making  love  to  my 
adopted  child,  —  to  say  nothing  of  your  leaving  me 
to  seek  her,  alone  and  terrified,  all  night." 

"  I  have  but  this  moment  found  her,  old  man !  ** 
cried  the  Knight  in  reply. 

"Well,  I  am  glad  of  that,"  said  the  Fisherman; 
"  now  then  bring  her  back  to  me  at  once." 

But  Undine  would  not  hear  of  it.  She  had  rather, 
she  said,  go  quite  away  into  the  wild  woods  with  the 
handsome  stranger,  than  return  to  the  hut,  where 


UNDINE.  19 

she  had  never  had  her  own  way,  and  which  the 
Knight  must  sooner  or  later  leave.  Embracing 
Huldbrand,  she  sang  with  peculiar  charm  and 
grace :  — 

"  From  misty  cave  the  mountain  wave 
Leapt  out  and  sought  the  main ! 
The  Ocean's  foam  she  made  her  home, 
And  ne'er  returned  again." 

The  old  man  wept  bitterly  as  she  sang,  but  this  did 
not  seem  to  move  her.  She  continued  to  caress  her 
lover,  till  at  length  he  said  :  "  Undine,  the  poor  old 
man's  grief  goes  to  my  heart,  if  not  to  yours.  Let 
us  go  back  to  him." 

Astonished,  she  raised  her  large  blue  eyes  to- 
ward him,  and  after  a  pause  answered  slowly  and 
reluctantly :  "  To  please  you,  I  will :  whatever  you 
like  pleases  me  too.  But  the  old  man  yonder  must 
first  promise  me  that  he  will  let  you  tell  me  all  you 
saw  in  the  forest,  and  the  rest  we  shall  see  about." 

"  Only  come  back, —  do  come  ! "  cried  the  Fisher- 
man, and  not  another  w^ord  could  he  say.  At  the 
same  moment  he  stretched  his  arms  over  the  stream 
toward  her,  and  nodded  his  head  by  way  of  giving 
her  the  desired  promise ;  and  as  his  white  hair  fell 
over  his  face,  it  gave  him  a  strange  look,  and  re- 
minded Huldbrand  involuntarily  of  the  nodding 
white  man  in  the  woods.  Determined,  however,  that 
nothing  should  stop  him,  the  young  Knight  took  the 
fair  damsel  in  his  arms,  and  carried  her  through  the 
short   space   of   foaming   flood,   which  divided   the 


20  UNDINE. 

island  from  the  main-land.  The  old  man  fell  upon 
Undine's  neck,  and  rejoiced,  and  kissed  her  in  the 
fullness  of  his  heart ;  his  aged  wife  also  came  up,  and 
welcomed  their  recovered  child  most  warmly.  AV. 
reproaches  were  forgotten ;  the  more  so,  as  Undine 
seemed  to  have  left  her  sauciness  behind,  and  over* 
whelmed  her  foster  parents  with  kind  words  and 
caresses. 

When  these  transports  of  joy  had  subsided,  and 
they  began  to  look  about  them,  the  rosy  dawn  was 
just  shedding  its  glow  over  the  lake,  the  storm  had 
ceased,  and  the  birds  were  singing  merrily  on  the 
wet  branches.  As  Undine  insisted  upon  hearing  the 
story  of  the  Knight's  adventure,  both  the  old  folks 
cheerfully  indulged  her.  Breakfast  was  set  out  un- 
der the  trees  between  the  cottage  and  the  lake,  and 
they  sat  down  before  it  with  glad  hearts,  Undine 
placing  herself  resolutely  on  the  grass  at  the 
Knight's  feet.  Huldbrand  began  his  narrative  as 
follows. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

OF    WHAT    HAD    BEFALLEN    THE    KNIGHT    IN    THE 
FOREST. 

"  About  eight  days  ago,  I  rode  into  the  imperial 
city  beyond  this  forest.  A  grand  tournament  and 
tilting  was  held  there,  and  I  spared  neither  lance 
nor  steed.  As  I  stood  still  a  moment  to  rest  my- 
self, in  a  pause  of  the  noble  game,  and  had  just  given 
my  helmet  in  charge  to  a  squire,  my  eye  fell  upon  a 
most  beautiful  woman,  who  stood,  richly  adorned,  in 
one  of  the  galleries,  looking  on.  I  inquired  her 
name,  and  found  that  this  charming  lady  was  Ber- 
talda,  the  adopted  daughter  of  one  of  the  principal 
lords  in  the  neighborhood.  I  observed  that  her  eye 
was  upon  me  too,  and  as  is  the  way  with  us  young 
knights,  I  had  not  been  slack  before,  but  I  now 
fought  more  bravelj''  still.  That  evening  I  was  Ber- 
talda's  partner  in  the  dance,  and  so  I  was  again 
every  evening  during  the  jousting." 

Here  a  sudden  pain  in  his  left  hand,  which  hung 
beside  him,  checked  the  Knight  in  his  tale,  and  he 
looked  at  his  hand.  Undine's  pearly  teeth  had  bit- 
ten one  of  his  fingers  sharply,  and  she  looked  very 
black  at  him.      But  the  next   moment  that  look 


22  UNDINE. 

changed  into  an  expression  of  tender  sadness,  and 
she  whispered  low :  "  So  you  are  faithless  too ! " 
Then  she  hid  her  face  in  her  hands,  and  the  Knight 
proceeded  with  his  tale,  although  staggered  and  per- 
plexed. 

"  That  Bertalda  is  a  high-spirited,  extraordinary 
maid.  On  the  second  day  she  charmed  me  far  less 
than  the  first,  and  on  the  third,  less  still.  But  I  re- 
mained with  her,  because  ^she  was  more  gracious  to 
me  than  to  any  other  knight,  and  so  it  fell  out  that 
I  asked  her  in  jest  for  one  of  her  gloves.  '  You 
shall  have  it,'  said  she,  '  if  you  will  visit  the  haunted 
forest  alone,  and  bring  me  an  account  of  it.'  It 
was  not  that  I  cared  much  for  her  glove,  but  the 
words  had  been  spoken,  and  a  knight  that  loves  his 
fame  does  not  wait  to  be  twice  urged  to  such  a  feat.** 

"  I  thought  she  had  loved  you,"  interrupted  Un- 
dine. 

"  It  looked  like  it,"  he  replied. 

"  Well,"  cried  the  maiden,  laughing,  "  she  must  be 
a  fool  indeed !  To  drive  him  away  whom  she  loves  ! 
and  into  a  haunted  forest  besides  !  The  forest  and 
its  mysteries  might  have  waited  long  enough,  for 
me." 

"  I  set  out  yesterday  morning "  continued  the 
Knight,  smiling  kindly  at  Undine.  "  The  stems  of 
the  trees  looked  so  bright  in  the  morning  sunshine, 
as  it  played  upon  the  green  turf,  and  the  leaves 
whispered  together  so  pleasantly,  that  I  could  not 
but  laugh  at  those  who  imagined  any  evil  to  lurk  in 


UNDINE.  28 

such  a  beautiful  place.  I  shall  very  soon  have  rid- 
den through  it  and  back  again,  thought  I,  pushing 
on  cheerily,  and  before  I  was  aware  of  it,  I  found 
myself  in  the  depths  of  its  leafy  shades,  and  the 
plains  behind  me  far  out  of  sight.  It  then  occurred 
to  me  that  I  was  likely  enough  to  lose  my  way  in 
this  wilderness  of  trees,  and  that  this  might  be  the 
only  real  danger  to  which  the  traveller  was  here  ex- 
posed. So  I  halted,  and  took  notice  of  the  course  of 
the  sun  ;  it  was  now  high  in  the  heavens. 

''  On  looking  up,  I  saw  something  black  among 
the  boughs  of  a  tall  oak.  I  took  it  for  a  bear,  and 
seized  my  rifle ;  but  it  addressed  me  in  a  human 
voice,  most  hoarse  and  grating,  saying  :  '  If  I  did 
not  break  off  the  twigs  up  here,  what  should  we  do 
to-night  for  fuel  to  roast  you  with.  Sir  Simpleton  ? ' 
And  he  gnashed  his  teeth,  and  rattled  the  boughs, 
so  as  to  startle  my  horse,  which  ran  away  with  me 
before  I  could  make  out  what  kind  of  a  devil  it 
was." 

"You  should  not  mention  his  name,"  said  the 
Fisherman, .crossing  himself;  his  wife  silently  did  the 
same,  while  Undine  turned  her  beaming  eyes  upon 
her  lover,  and  said,  — 

"He  is  safe  now;  it  is  well  they  did  not  really 
roast  him.     Go  on,  pretty  youth." 

He  continued :  "  My  terrified  horse  had  almost 
iashed  me  against  many  a  trunk  and  branch ;  he 
was  running  down  with  fright  and  heat,  and  yet 
there  was  no  stopping  him.     At  length  he  rushed 


24:  UNDINE. 

madly  toward  the  brink  of  a  stony  precipice;  but 
here,  as  it  seemed  to  me,  a  tall  white  man  threw 
himself  across  the  plunging  animal's  path,  and  made 
him  start  back,  and  stop.  I  then  recovered  the  con- 
trol of  him,  and  found  that,  instead  of  a  white  man, 
my  preserver  was  no  other  than  a  bright  silvery 
brook,  which  gushed  down  from  a  hill  beside  me, 
checking  and  crossing  my  horse  in  his  course." 

"  Thanks,  dear  brook !  "  cried  Undine,  clapping 
her  hands.  But  the  old  man  shook  his  head,  and 
seemed  lost  in  thought. 

"  Scarcely  had  I  settled  myself  in  the  saddle,  and 
got  firm  hold  of  my  reins  again,"  proceeded  Huld- 
brand,  "  when  an  extraordinary  little  man  sprang  up 
beside  me,  wizen  and  hideous  beyond  measure ;  he 
was  of  a  yellow-brown  hue,  and  his  nose  almost  as 
big  as  the  whole  of  his  body.  He  grinned  at  me 
m  the  most  fulsome  way  with  his  wide  mouth,  bow- 
ing and  scraping  every  moment.  As  I  could  not 
abide  these  antics,  I  thanked  him  abruptly,  pulled 
my  still-trembling  horse  another  way,  and  thought  I 
would  seek  some  other  adventure,  or  perhaps  go 
home  ;  for  during  my  wild  gallop  the  sun  had  passed 
his  meridian,  and  was  now  declining  westward.  But 
the  little  imp  sprang  round  like  lightning,  and  stood 
in  front  of  my  horse  again. 

"  '  Make  way  ! '  cried  I  impatiently,  '  the  animal  is 
unruly,  and  may  run  over  you.' " 

"  '  Oh,'  snarled  the  imp,  with  a  laugh  more  disgust- 
ing than  before,  '  first  give  me  a  piece  of  coin  for 


UNDINE.  26 

having  caught  your  horse  so  nicely  ;  but  for  me,  you 
and  your  pretty  beast  would  be  lying  in  the  pit  down 
yonder :  whew  ! ' 

" '  Only  have  done  with  your  grimaces,'  said  I, 
'  and  take  your  money  along  with  you,  though  it  is 
all  a  lie :  look  there,  it  was  that  honest  brook  that 
saved  me,  not  you  —  you  pitiful  wretch  ! '  So  saying, 
I  dropped  a  gold  coin  into  his  comical  cap,  which  he 
held  out  toward  me  like  a  beggar. 

"  I  trotted  on,  but  he  still  followed,  screaming, 
and,  with  inconceivable  rapidity,  whisked  up  to  my 
side.  I  put  my  horse  into  a  gallop ;  he  kept  pace 
with  me,  though  with  much  difficulty,  and  twisted 
his  body  into  various  frightful  and  ridiculous  atti- 
tudes, crying  at  each  step  as  he  held  up  the  money : 

*  Bad  coin  !  bad  gold  !  bad  gold  !  bad  coin  ! '  And 
this  he  shrieked  in  such  a  ghastly  tone,  that  you 
would  have  expected  him  to  drop  down  dead  after 
each  cry. 

"At   last    I   stopped,   much    vexed,   and   asked, 

*  What  do  you  want,  with  your  shrieks  ?  Take  an- 
other gold  coin ;  take  two  if  you  will,  only  let  me 
alone.' 

"  He  began  his  odious  smirking  again,  and 
snarled,  *  It 's  not  gold,  it 's  not  gold  that  I  want, 
young  gentleman ;  I  have  rather  more  of  that  than 
t  can  use  :  you  shall  see.' 

"  All  at  once  the  surface  of  the  ground  became 
transparent ;  it  looked  like  a  smooth  globe  of  green 
glass,  and  within  it  I  saw  a  crowd  of  goblins  at  play 


26  UNDINE. 

with  silver  and  gold.  Tumbling  about,  head  over 
heels,  they  pelted  each  other  in  sport,  making  a  toy 
of  the  precious  metals,^  and  powdering  their  faces 
with  gold-dust.  My  ugly  companion  stood  half 
above,  half  below  the  surface ;  he  made  the  others 
reach  up  to  him  quantities  of  gold,  and  showed  it 
me  laughing,  and  then  flung  it  into  the  fathomless 
depths  beneath.  He  displayed  the  piece  of  gold  1 
had  given  him  to  the  goblins  below,  who  held  their 
sides  with  laughing,  and  hissed  at  me  in  scorn.  At 
length  all  their  bony  fingers  pointed  at  me  together ; 
and  louder  and  louder,  closer  and  closer,  wilder  and 
wilder  grew  the  turmoil,  as  it  rose  toward  me,  till 
not  my  horse  only,  but  I  myself  was  terrified  ;  I  put 
spurs  into  him,  and  cannot  tell  how  long  I  may  have 
scoured  the  forest  this  time. 

"  When  at  last  I  halted,  the  shades  of  evening  had 
closed  in.  Through  the  branches  I  saw  a  white  foot- 
path gleaming,  and  hoped  it  must  be  a  road  out  of 
the  forest  to  the  town.  I  resolved  to  work  my  way 
thither ;  but  lo !  an  indistinct,  dead-white  face,  with 
ever-changing  features,  peeped  at  me  through  the 
leaves ;  I  tried  to  avoid  it,  but  wherever  I  went, 
there  it  was.  Provoked,  I  attempted  to  push  my 
horse  against  it ;  then  it  splashed  us  both  over  with 
white  foam,  and  we  turned  away,  blinded  for  the 
moment.  So  it  drove  us,  step  by  step,  further  and 
further  from  the  footpath,  and  indeed  never  letting 
us  go  on  undisturbed  but  in  one  direction.  While 
we  kept  to  this,  it  was  close  upon  our  heels,  but  did 


T7NDINE.  27 

not  thwart  us.  Having  looked  round  once  or  twice, 
I  observed  that  the  white  foaming  head  was  placed 
on  a  gigantic  body,  equally  white.  I  sometimes 
doubted  my  first  impression,  and  thought  it  merely 
a  water-fall,  but  I  never  could  satisfy  myself  that 
it  was  so.  Wearily  did  my  horse  and  I  precede 
this  active  white  pursuer,  who  often  nodded  at  us, 
as  if  saying,  '  That 's  right !  that 's  right ! '  and  it 
ended  by  our  issuing  from  the  wood  here,  where  I 
rejoiced  to  see  your  lawn,  the  lake,  and  this  cottage, 
and  where  the  long  white  man  vanished." 

"  Thank  Heaven,  he  is  gone,"  said  the  old  man, 
and  he  then  proceeded  to  consider  how  his  guest 
could  best  return  to  his  friends  in  the  city.  Upon 
this.  Undine  was  heard  to  laugh  in  a  whisper. 

Huldbrand  observed  it,  and  said :  "  I  thought 
you  had  wished  me  to  stay ;  and  now  you  seem 
pleased  when  we  talk  of  my  going  ?  " 

"Because,"  replied  Undine,  "you  cannot  get 
away.  Only  try  to  cross  the  swollen  brook,  in  a 
boat,  on  horseback,  or  on  foot.  Or  rather,  do  not 
try,  for  you  would  be  dashed  to  pieces  by  the 
branches  and  stones  that  it  hurls  along.  And  as  to 
the  lake,  I  know  how  that  is :  father  never  ventures 
across  it  in  his  boat." 

Huldbrand  laughed,  and  got  up  to  see  whether 
she  had  spoken  true ;  the  old  man  went  with  him, 
and  the  maiden  tripped  along  playfully  by  their  side. 
They  found  she  had  told  them  no  worse  than  the 
truth,  and  the  Knight  resigned  himself  to  staying  in 


28  UNDINE. 

the  island,  as  it  might  now  be  called,  till  the  floods 
had  subsided.  As  they  returned  homeward,  he 
whispered  in  his  pretty  companion's  ear,  — "  Well, 
my  little  Undine !  are  you  angry  at  my  staying  ?  " 

"  Ah,"  said  she  sullenly,  "  never  mind.  If  I  had 
no:  bitten  you,  who  knows  what  might  have  come 
out  in  your  story  of  Bertalda  ?  " 


CHAPTER   V. 

OF   THE    LIFE    WHICH    THE    KNIGHT    LED    ON    THE 
ISLAND. 

Has  it  ever  befallen  thee,  gentle  reader,  after 
many  ups  and  downs  in  this  troublesome  world,  to 
alight  upon  a  spot  where  thou  foundest  rest ;  where 
the  love  which  is  born  with  us  for  fireside  comfort 
and  domestic  peace,  revived  in  thee;  where  thou 
couldst  fancy  thy  early  home  with  the  blossoms  of 
childhood,  its  pure,  heartfelt  affection,  and  the  holy 
influence  breathed  from  thy  fathers'  graves,  to  be 
restored  to  thee  —  and  that  it  must  indeed  be  "  good 
for  thee  to  be  here,  and  to  build  tabernacles  ?  "  The 
charm  may  have  been  broken,  the  dream  dispelled ; 
but  that  has  nothing  to  do  with  our  present  picture ; 
nor  wilt  thou  care  to  dwell  on  such  bitter  moments ; 
but  recall  to  mind  that  period  of  unspeakable  peace, 
that  foretaste  of  angelic  rest  which  was  granted  thee, 
and  thou  wilt  partly  conceive  what  the  Knight  Huld- 
brand  felt,  while  he  lived  on  the  promontory.  Often, 
with  secret  satisfaction,  did  he  mark  the  forest 
streams  rolling  by  more  wildly  every  day ;  its  bed 
became  wider  and  wider,  and  he  felt  the  period  of 
his  seclusion  from  the  world  must  be  still  prolonged. 


30  UNDINE. 

Having  found  an  old  cross-bow  in  a  corner  of  the 
cottage,  and  mended  it,  he  spent  part  of  his  days 
roving  about,  waylaying  the  birds  that  flew  by,  and 
bringing  whatever  he  killed  to  the  kitchen,  as  rare 
game.  When  he  came  back  laden  with  spoil,  Un- 
dine would  often  scold  him  for  taking  the  life  of  the 
dear  little  joyous  creatures,  soaring  in  the  blue 
depths  of  Heaven  ;  she  would  even  weep  bitterly 
over  the  dead  birds.  But  if  he  came  home  empty- 
handed,  she  found  fault  with  his  awkwardness  and 
laziness,  which  obliged  them  to  be  content  with  fish 
and  crabs  for  dinner.  Either  way,  he  took  delight 
in  her  pretty  fits  of  anger ;  the  more  so  as  she 
rarely  failed  to  make  up  for  them  by  the  fondest 
caresses  afterwards.  The  old  folks,  having  been  in 
the  young  people's  confidence  from  the  first,  uncon- 
sciously looked  upon  them  as  a  betrothed  or  even 
married  pair,  shut  out  from  the  world  with  them  in 
this  retreat,  and  bestowed  upon  them  for  comforts  in 
their  old  age.  And  this  very  seclusion  helped  to  make 
the  young  Knight  feel  as  if  he  were  already  Un- 
dine's bridegroom.  It  seemed  to  him  that  the  whole 
world  was  contained  within  the  surrounding  waters, 
or  at  any  rate,  that  he  could  never  more  cross  that 
charmed  boundary,  and  rejoin  other  human  beings 
And  if  at  times  the  neighing  of  his  steed  reminded 
him  of  former  feats  of  chivalry,  and  seemed  to  ask 
for  more ;  if  his  coat  of  arms,  embroidered  on  the 
saddle  and  trappings,  caught  his  eye  ;  or  if  his  good 
sword  fell  from  the  nail  on  which  he  had  hung  it, 


UNDINE.  31 

and  slipped  out  of  its  scabbard,  he  would  silence  the 
misgivings  that  arose,  by  thinking,  Undine  is  not  a 
fisherman's  daughter,  but  most  likely  sprung  from 
some  highly  noble  family  in  distant  lands.  The 
only  thing  that  ever  ruffled  him,  was  to  hear  the  old 
woman  scolding  Undine.  The  wayward  girl  only 
laughed  at  her ;  but  to  him  it  seemed  as  if  his  own 
honor  were  touched ;  and  yet  he  could  not  blame 
the  good  wife,  for  Undine  mostly  deserved  ten  times 
worse  than  she  got,  therefore  he  still  felt  kindly 
toward  the  old  dame,  and  these  little  rubs  scarcely 
disturbed  the  even  current  of  their  lives. 

At  length,  however,  a  grievance  did  arise.  The 
Knight  and  the  Fisherman  were  in  the  habit  of  sit- 
ting cheerfully  over  a  flask  of  wine,  both  at  noon, 
and  also  at  eventide  while  the  wind  whistled  around, 
as  it  generally  did  at  night.  But  they  had  now  ex- 
hausted the  whole  stock  which  the  Fisherman  had, 
long  since,  brought  from  the  town  with  him,  and 
they  both  missed  it  sadly.  Undine  laughed  at  them 
all  day  for  it,  but  they  could  not  join  in  her  mirth 
as  heartily  as  usual.  Toward  evening  she  left  the 
cottage,  saying  she  could  no  longer  bear  such  long, 
dismal  faces.  As  the  twilight  looked  stormy,  and 
the  waters  were  beginning  to  moan  and  heave,  the 
Knight  and  the  old  man  ran  out  anxiously  to  fetch 
her  back,  remembering  the  agony  of  that  night  when 
Huldbrand  first  came  to  the  cottage.  But  they 
were  met  by  Undine,  clapping  her  hands  merrily. 
'*  What  will  you  give  me  if  I  get  you  some  wine  ? 


32  UNDINE. 

But,  indeed,  I  want  no  reward  for  it,"  she  added; 
"  I  shall  be  satisfied  if  you  will  but  look  brighter, 
and  find  more  to  say  than  you  have  done  all  these 
tedious  mornings.  Come  along ;  the  floods  have 
washed  a  barrel  ashore,  and  I  will  engage  to  sleep  a 
whole  week  through  if  it  is  not  a  barrel  of  wine !  " 

The  men  both  followed  her  to  a  shady  creek,  and 
there  found  a  barrel,  which  did  look  as  if  it  con- 
tained the  generous  liquor  which  they  longed  for. 
They  rolled  it  toward  the  hut  as  fast  as  they  could, 
for  a  heavy  storm  seemed  stalking  across  the  sky, 
and  there  was  lis^ht  enough  left  to  show  them  the 
waves  of  the  lake  tossing  up  their  foaming  heads,  as 
if  looking  out  for  the  rain  which  would  soon  pour 
down  upon  them.  Undine  lent  a  hand  in  the  work, 
and  presently,  when  the  shower  threatened  to  break 
instantly  over  their  heads,  she  spoke  to  the  big 
clouds  in  playful  defiance :  "  You,  you  there  !  mind 
you  do  not  give  us  a  drenching ;  we  are  some  way 
from  home  yet."  The  old  man  admonished  her  that 
this  was  sinful  presumption,  but  she  laughed  slyly  to 
herself,  and  no  harm  came  of  it.  Beyond  their 
hopes,  they  all  three  reached  the  comfortable  fireside 
with  their  prize,  unhurt ;  and  it  was  not  till  they  had 
opened  the  barrel,  and  found  it  to  contain  excellent 
wine,  that  the  rain  broke  from  the  heavy  clouds  in 
torrents,  and  they  heard  the  storm  roaring  among 
the  trees,  and  over  the  lake's  heaving  billows. 

A  few  bottles  were  soon  filled  from  the  great 
barrel,  enough  to  last  them  several  days ;  and  they 


UNDINE.  S3 

sat  sipping  and  chatting  over  the  bright  fire,  secure 
from  the  raging  tempest.  But  the  old  man's  heart 
presently  smote  him.  "  Dear  me,"  said  he,  "  here  are 
we  making  merry  over  the  blessing  of  Providence, 
while  the  owner  of  it  has  perhaps  been  carried  away 
by  the  flood,  and  lost  his  life  ! "  —  "  No,  that  he  has 
not,"  said  Undine,  smiling;  and  she  filled  the 
Knight's  glass  again.  He  replied,  "  I  give  you  my 
word,  good  father,  that  if  I  knew  how  to  find  and 
save  him,  no  danger  should  deter  me ;  I  would  not 
shrink  from  setting  out  in  this  darkness.  This  much 
I  promise  you,  if  ever  I  set  foot  in  an  inhabited 
country  again,  I  will  make  inquiry  after  him  or  his 
heirs,  and  restore  to  them  twice  or  three  times  the 
value  of  the  wine."  This  pleased  the  pld  man  ;  he 
gave  an  approving  nod  to  the  Knight,  and  drained 
his  glass  with  a  better  conscience  and  a  lighter  heart. 
But  Undine  said  to  Huldbrand,  "  Do  as  you  like 
with  your  money,  you  may  make  what  compensation 
you  please  ;  but  as  to  settioig  out  and  wandering  after 
him,  that  was  hastily  said.  I  should  cry  my  heart 
out  if  we  chanced  to  lose  you ;  and  had  not  you 
rather  stay  with  me  and  with  the  good  wine  ?  " 
"  Why,  yes !  "  said  Huldbrand,  laughing.  "  Well 
then,"  rejoined  Undine,  "  it  was  a  foolish  thing  you 
talked  of  doing ;  charity  begins  at  home,  you  know." 
The  old  woman  turned  away,  shaking  her  head  and 
sighing  ;  her  husband  forgot  his  usual  indulgence  for 
the  pretty  lassie,  and  reproved  her  sharply.  "  One 
would  think,"   said  he,  "  you  had   been    reared  by 


34  UNDINE. 

Turks  and  heathens ;  God  forgive  you  and  us,  you 
perverse  child." — "  Ay  but  it  is  my  way  of  thinking  " 
pursued  Undine,  "  whoever  has  reared  me,  so  what 
is  the  use  of  your  talking  ?  "  —  "  Peace  ! "  cried  the 
Fisherman  ;  and  she,  who  with  all  her  wildness  was 
sometimes  cowed  in  a  moment,  clung  trembling  to 
Huldbrand,  and  whispered,  "  And  are  you  angry 
with  me,  dear  friend?"  The  Knight  pressed  her 
soft  hand,  and  stroked  down  her  ringlets.  Not  a 
word  could  he  say ;  his  distress  at  the  old  man's 
harshness  toward  Undine  had  sealed  his  lips ;  and  so 
each  couple  remained  sitting  opposite  the  other,  in 
moody  silence  and  constraint. 


CHAPTER    VI. 


OF    A    BRIDAL. 


A  GENTLE  tap  at  the  door  broke  the  silence,  and 
made  them  all  start:  it  sometimes  happens  that  a 
mere  trifle,  coming  quite  unexpectedly,  strikes  the 
senses  with  terror.  They  looked  at  each  other, 
hesitating ;  the  tap  was  repeated,  accompanied  by  a 
deep  groan ;  and  the  Knight  grasped  his  sword. 
But  the  old  man  muttered,  "  If  it  is  what  I  fear,  it  is 
not  a  sword  that  will  help  us !  "  Undine,  however, 
stepped  forward  to  the  door,  and  said  boldly  and 
sharply,  "  If  you  are  after  any  mischief,  you  spirits 
of  earth,  Kiihleborn  shall  teach  you  manners." 

The  terror  of  the  others  increased  at  these  strange 
words ;  they  looked  at  the  maiden  with  awe,  and 
Huldbrand  was  just  mustering  courage  to  ask  her  a 
question,  when  a  voice  answered  her  from  without ; 
"  I  am  no  spirit  of  earth ;  call  me,  if  you  will,  a 
spirit  pent  in  mortal  clay.  If  you  fear  God,  and 
will  be  charitable,  you  dwellers  in  the  cottage,  open 
the  door  to  me."  Undine  opened  it  before  he  had 
done  speaking,  and  held  out  a  lamp  into  the  stormy 
night,  so  as  to  show  them  the  figure  of  an  aged 
Priest,  who  started  back  as  the  radiant  beauty  of 


36  UNDINE. 

Undine  flashed  upon  his  sight.  Well  might  he  sus- 
pect magic  and  witchery,  when  so  bright  a  vision 
shone  out  of  a  mean-looking  cottage  ;  he  accordingly 
began  a  canticle,  "  All  good  spirits  give  praise  to  the 
Lord!" 

"  I  am  no  ghost,"  said  Undine,  smiling ;  "  am  I  so 
frightful  to  behold  ?  And  you  may  see  that  a  pious 
saying  has  no  terrors  for  me.  I  worship  God,  too, 
and  praise  Him  after  my  own  fashion ;  He  has  not 
created  us  all  alike.  Come  in,  venerable  father ;  you 
will  find  worthy  folks  here." 

The  holy  man  walked  in,  bowing  and  casting  his 
eyes  around,  and  looking  most  mild  and  venerable. 
Every  fold  of  his  dark  garment  was  dripping  with 
water,  and  so  were  his  long  white  beard  and  hoary 
locks.     The  Fisherman  and  the  Knight  led  him  to 
a  bedroom,  and  gave  him  change  of  clothing,  while 
the  women  dried  his  wet  garments  by  the  hearth 
fire.     The  aged  strano^er  thanked  them  with  all  hu- 
mility  and  gentleness,  but  would  by  no  means  accept 
of  the    Knight's  splendid  mantle,  which  he  offered 
him :  he  chose  himself  an  old  gray  wrapper  of  the 
Fisherman's    instead.      So    they   returned    to    the 
kitchen;   the  dame  gave  up   her  own  arm-chair  to 
the  Priest,  and  had  no  peace  till  he  sat  himself  down 
in  it :  "  For,"  said  she,  '•  you  are  old  and  weary,  and 
a  priest   besides."     Undine   pushed  her  little   foot- 
stool,  on  which   she  generally   sat  by   Huldbrand 
toward  the  good  man's  feet,  and  altogether  behaved 
to  him  quite  properly  and  gracefully.     Huldbrand 


UNDINE.  87 

took  notice  of  this,  in  a  playful  whisper ;  but  she  an 
swered  very  gravely :  "  Because  he  is  a  servant  of 
the  Maker  of  us  all ;  that  is  too  serious  for  a  jest." 

Meantime  the  two  men  set  meat  and  wine  before 
their  guest,  and  when  he  had  recruited  his  strength 
a  little,  he  began  his  story  ;  saying  that  the  day  be- 
fore he  had  left  his  monastery,  which  was  a  good 
way  off  beyond  the  lake,  intending  to  visit  the  bishop 
at  his  palace,  and  report  to  him  the  distress  which 
these  almost  supernatural  floods  had  caused  the 
monks  and  their  poor  tenantry.  After  going  round 
a  long  way,  to  avoid  these  very  floods,  he  had  been 
obliged  toward  evening  to  cross  an  arm  of  the  over- 
flowing lake,  with  the  help  of  two  honest  sailors. 
"  But,"  added  he,  "  no  sooner  had  our  little  vessel 
touched  the  .waves,  than  we  were  wrapped  in  the 
tremendous  storm,  which  is  still  raging  over  our 
heads  now.  It  looked  as  if  the  waters  had  only 
awaited  our  coming  to  give  a  loose  to  their  fury. 
The  oars  were  soon  dashed  from  the  seamen's  hands, 
and  we  saw  their  broken  fragments  carried  further 
and  further  from  us  by  the  waves.  We  floated  on 
the  wave  tops,  helpless,  driven  by  the  furious  tem- 
pest toward  your  shores,  which  we  saw  in  the  dis- 
tance whenever  the  clouds  parted  for  a  moment. 
The  boat  was  tossed  about  still  more  wildly  and  gid- 
dily ;  and  whether  it  upset,  or  I  fell  out,  I  cannot 
tell.  I  floated  on,  with  the  dark  prospect  of  instant 
death  before  me,  till  a  wave  landed  me  at  the  foot  of 
a  tree,  in  this  your  island." 


38  UNDINE. 

"  Ay,  island  indeed  !  "  said  the  Fisherman.     « It 
was  a  promontory  but  a  short  time  ago.     But,  since 
the  stream  and  our  lake  are  gone   raving^  mad  to 
gether,  every  thing  about  us  is  new  and  strange." 

The  Priest  continued :  "As  I  crept  along  the 
water-side  in  the  dark,  with  a  wild  uproar  around  me, 
something  caught  my  eye,  and  presently  I  descried 
a  beaten  pathway,  which  was  soon  lost  in  the  shades ; 
I  spied  the  light  in  your  cottage,  and  ventured  to 
come  hither ;  and  I  cannot  sufficiently  thank  my 
heavenly  Father,  who  has  not  only  delivered  me 
from  the  waters,  but  guided  me  to  such  kind  souls. 
I  feel  this  blessing  the  more,  as  it  is  very  likely  I 
may  never  see  any  faces  but  yours  again."  —  ".How 
so  ?  "  asked  the  Fisherman.  "  Can  you  guess  how 
long  this  fury  of  the  elements  may  last  ?  "  replied 
the  Priest.  "  And  I  am  an  old  man.  My  stream 
of  life  may  perhaps  lose  itself  in  the  earth,  before 
these  floods  subside.  And  besides,  it  may  be  the 
foaming  waters  will  divide  you  from  the  forest  more 
and  more,  till  you  are  unable  to  gjet  across  in  your 
fishing  boat ;  and  the  people  of  the  main-land,  full  of 
their  own  concerns,  would  quite  forget  you  in  your 
retreat." 

Shuddering,  and  crossing  herself,  the  Fisherman's 
wife  exclaimed,  "  God  forbid ! "  But  the  old  man 
smiled  at  her,  and  said,  "  What  creatures  we  are  ! 
That  would  make  no  difference,  to  you  at  least,  my 
dear  wife.  How  many  years  is  it  since  you  have 
set  foot  within  the  forest  ?     And  Have  you  seen  any 


UNDINE.  39 

face  but  Undine's  and  mine  ?  Lately,  indeed,  we 
have  had  the  good  Knight  and  Priest  besides.  Bui 
they  would  stay  with  us  ;  so  that  if  we  are  forgotten 
in  this  island,  you  will  be  the  gainer." 

"  So  I  see,"  said  the  dame ;  "  yet  somehow,  it  is 
cheerless  to  feel  ourselves  quite  cut  off  from  the  rest 
of  the  world,  however  seldom  we  had  seen  it  before." 

"  Then  you  will  stay  with  us !  "  murmured  Undine 
m  a  sweet  voice,  and  she  pressed  closer  to  Huld- 
brand's  side.  But  he  was  lost  in  deep  thought. 
Since  the  Priest  had  last  spoken,  the  land  beyond 
the  wild  stream  had  seemed  to  his  fancy  more  dark 
and  distant  than  ever  ;  while  the  flowery  island  he 
lived  in  —  and  his  bride,  the  fairest  flower  in  the 
picture  —  bloomed  and  smiled  more  and  more 
freshly  in  his  imagination.  Here  was  the  Priest  at 
hand  to  unite  them  ;  —  and,  to  complete  his  resolu- 
tion, the  old  dame  just  then  darted  a  reproving  look 
at  Undine,  for  clinging  to  her  lover's  side  in  the  holy 
man's  presence  ;  an  angry  lecture  seemed  on  the 
point  of  beginning.  He  turned  toward  the  Priest, 
and  these  words  burst  from  him :  "  You  see  before 
you  a  betrothed  pair,  reverend  sir ;  if  this  damsel 
and  the  kind  old  people  will  consent,  you  shall  unite 
us  this  very  evening." 

The  old  folks  were  much  surprised.  Such  a 
thought  had  often  crossed  their  minds,  but  they  had 
never  till  this  moment  heard  it  uttered ;  and  it  now 
fell  upon  their  ears  like  an  unexpected  thing.  Un- 
dine had  suddenly  become  quite  grave,  and  sat  nnis- 


40  UNDINE. 

ing  deeply,  while  the  Priest  inquired  into  various 
circumstances,  and  asked  the  old  couple's  consent  to 
the  deed.  After  some  deliberation,  they  gave  it; 
the  dame  went  away  to  prepare  the  young  people's 
bridal  chamber,  and  to  fetch  from  her  stores  two 
consecrated  tapers  for  the  wedding  ceremony. 
Meanwhile  the  Knight  was  pulling  two  rings  off  his 
gold  chain  for  himself  and  "his  bride  to  exchange. 
But  this  roused  Undine  from  her  reverie,  and  she 
said :  "  Stay  !  my  parents  did  not  send  me  into  the 
world  quite  penniless  ;  they  looked  forward  long  ago 
to  this  occasion,  and  provided  for  it."  She  quickly 
withdrew,  and  returned  bringing  two  costly  rings, 
one  of  which  she  gave  to  her  betrothed  and  kept  the 
other  herself.  This  astonished  the  old  Fisherman, 
and  still  more  his  wife,  who  came  in  soon  after ;  for 
they  neither  of  them  had  ever  seen  these  jewels 
about  the  child.  "  My  parents,"  said  Undine,  "  had 
these  rings  sewed  into  the  gay  dress  which  I  wore, 
when  first  I  came  to  you.  They  charged  me  to  let 
no  one  know  of  them  till  my  wedding-day  came. 
Therefore  I  took  them  secretly  out  of  the  dress,  and 
have  kept  them  hidden  till  this  evening." 

Here  the  Priest  put  a  stop  to  the  conversation,  by 
lighting  the  holy  tapers,  placing  them  on  the  table, 
and  calling  the  young  pair  to  him.  With  few  and 
solemn  words  he  joined  their  hands ;  the  aged  couple 
gave  their  blessing,  while  the  bride  leaned  upon  het 
{lusband,  pensive  and  trembling. 

When  it   was  over,  the    Priest   said:   "You    are 


UNDINE.  41 

strange  people  after  all!  What  did  you  mean  by 
saying  you  were  the  only  inhabitants  of  this  island  ? 
During  the  whole  ceremony  there  was  a  fine-looking 
tall  man,  in  a  white  cloak,  standing  just  outside  the 
window  opposite  me.  He  must  be  near  the  door 
still,  if  you  like  to  invite  him  in."  —  "  Heaven  for- 
bid ! "  said  the  dame,  shuddering ;  the  old  man 
shook  his  head  without  speaking ;  and  Huldbrand 
rushed  to  the  window.  He  could  fancy  he  saw  a 
streak  of  white,  but  it  was  soon  lost  in  darkness. 
So  he  assured  the  Priest  he  must  have  been  mis- 
taken ;  and  they  all  sat  down  comfortably  round  the 
fire. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

HOW    THE    REST    OF    THE    EVENING    PASSED    AWAY. 

Undine  had  been  perfectly  quiet  and  well-be- 
haved both  before  and  during  the  marriage  cere- 
mony ;  but  now  her  wild  spirits  seemed  the  more  un- 
controllable from  the  restraint  they  had  undergone, 
and  rose  to  an  extravagant  height.  She  played  all 
manner  of  childish  tricks  on  her  husband,  her  foster 
parents,  and  even  the  venerable  Priest,  and  when  the 
old  woman  began  to  check  her,  one  or  two  words 
from  Huldbrand,  who  gravely  called  Undine  "  his 
wife,"  reduced  her  to  silence.  The  Knight  himself, 
however,  was  far  from  being  pleased  at  Undine's 
childishness  ;  but  no  hint  or  sign  would  stop  her. 
Whenever  she  perceived  his  disapproving  looks  — 
which  she  occasionally  did  —  it  subdued  her  for  the 
moment ;  she  would  sit  down  by  him,  whisper  some- 
thing playfully  in  his  ear,  and  so  dispel  the  frown 
as  it  gathered  on  his  brow.  But  the  next  instant 
some  wild  nonsense  would  dart  into  her  head,  and 
set  her  off  worse  than  ever.  At  last  the  Priest  said 
to  her,  in  a  kind  but  grave  manner,  "  My  dear  young 
lady,  no  one  that  beholds  you  can  be  severe  upon 
you,  it   is  true ;  but   remember,  it   is  your  duty  to 


UNDINE.  48 

keep  watch  over  your  soul,  that  it  may  be  ever  in 
harmony  with  that  of  your  wedded  husband/ 
"  Soul !  "  cried  Undine,  laughing ;  •'  that  sounds  very 
fine,  and  for  most  people  may  be  very  edifying  and 
moral  advice.  But  if  one  has  no  soul  at  all,  pray 
how  is  one  to  keep  watch  over  it  ?  And  that  is  my 
case."  The  Priest  was  deeply  hurt,  and  turned  away 
his  face  in  mingled  sorrow  and  anger.  But  she 
came  up  to  him  beseechingly,  and  said,  "  Nay,  hear 
me  before  you  are  angry,  for  it  grieves  me  to  see  you 
displeased,  and  you  would  not  distress  any  creature 
who  has  done  you  no  harm.  Only  have  patience 
with  me,  and  I  will  tell  you  all,  from  the  beginning." 
They  saw  she  was  preparing  to  give  them  a  regu- 
lar history,;  but  she  stopped  short,  appearing  thrilled 
by  some  secret  recollection,  and  burst  into  a  flood 
of  gentle  tears.  They  were  quite  at  a  loss  what  to 
think  of  her,  and  gazed  upon  her,  distressed  from 
various  causes.  At  length  drying  her  eyes,  she 
looked  at  the  Priest  earnestly  and  said,  "  There  must 
be  much  to  love  in  a  soul,  but  much  that  is  awful 
too.  For  God's  sake,  holy  father,  tell  me  —  were  it 
not  better  to  be  still  without  one?"  She  waited 
breathlessly  for  an  answer,  restraining  her  tears. 
Her  hearers  had  all  risen  from  their  seats,  and  now 
stepped  back  from  her,  shuddering.  She  seemed  to 
have  no  eyes  but  for  the  saintly  man ;  her  counte- 
nance assumed  an  expression  of  anxiety  and  awe 
which  yet  more  alarmed  the  others.  "  Heavy  must 
be  the  burden  of  a  soul,"  added  she,  as  no  one  an- 


44  UNDINE. 

swered  her,  — "  heavy  indeed !  for  the  mere  ap- 
proach  of  mine  overshadows  me  with  anxious  mel- 
ancholy. And  ah !  how  light-hearted,  how  joyous 
I  used  to  be  ! "  A  fresh  burst  of  weeping  overcame 
her,  and  she  covered  her  face  with  her  veil. 

The  Priest  then  approached  her  with  much  grav- 
ity, and  adjured  her  by  the  holiest  names  to  confess 
the  truth,  if  any  evil  lurked  in  her,  unknown  to 
them.  But  she  fell  on  her  knees  before  him,  re- 
peated after  him  all  his  words  of  piety,  gave  praise 
to  God,  and  declared  she  was  in  charity  with  all  the 
world.  The  Priest  turned  to  the  young  Knight. 
"  Sir  bridegroom,"  said  he,  "  I  leave  you  alone  with 
her  whom  I  have  made  your  wife.  As  far  as  I  can 
discover,  there  is  no  evil,  although  much  that  is  mys- 
terious, in  her.  I  exhort  you  to  be  sober,  loving,  and 
faithful."  So  he  went  out ;  and  the  old  people  fol- 
lowed, crossing  themselves. 

Undine  was  still  on  her  knees ;  she  uncovered 
her  face  and  looked  timidly  at  Huldbrand,  saying, 
"  Ah,  thou  wilt  surely  cast  me  off  now ;  and  yet  I 
have  done  nothing  wrong,  poor,  poor  child  that  I 
am  ! "  This  she  said  witli  so  touching  and  gentle  au 
expression,  that  her  husband  forgot  all  the  gloom 
and  mystery  that  had  chilled  his  heart ;  he  hastened 
toward  her,  and  raised  her  in  his  arms.  She  smiled 
through  her  tears  —  it  was  like  the  glow  of  dawn 
shining  upon  a  clear  fountain.  "  Thou  canst  not  for- 
sake me !  "  whispered  she,  in  accents  of  the  firmest 
reliance ;  and  she  stroked  his  cheeks  with  her  soft 


UNDINE.  45 

little  hands.  He  tried  to  shake  off  the  gloomy 
thoughts  which  still  lurked  in  a  corner  of  his  mind, 
suggesting  to  him  that  he  had  married  a  fairy,  or 
some  shadowy  being  from  the  world  of  spirits :  one 
question,  however,  he  could  not  help  asking :  "  My 
dear  little  Undine,  just  tell  me  one  thing:  what  was 
that  you  said  about  spirits  of  earth,  and  Kiihleborn, 
when  the  Priest  knocked  at  the  door  ?  "  —  All  non- 
sense I "  said  Undine,  laughing,  with  her  usual  gayety. 
"  First  I  frightened  you  with  it,  and  then  you  fright- 
ened me.  And  that  is  the  end  of  the  story,  and  of 
our  wedding-day ! "  —  "  No,  it  is  not  over,"  said  her 
now  delighted  lover ;  he  extinguished  the  tapers, 
and  by  the  light  of  the  moon,  which  beamed  brightly 
through  the  casement,  he  carried  his  beautiful  wife 
into  the  bridal  chamber. 


1 

1 

w^^^^^i^i^^^ 

^M 

^^S 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE    DAY    AFTER    THE    MARRIAGE. 

A  BRIGHT  morning  light  wakened  the  young  peo- 
ple ;  and  Huldbrand  lay  musing  silently.  As  often 
as  he  had  dropped  asleep,  he  had  been  scared  by 
horrible  dreams  of  spectres,  who  suddenly  took  the 
form  of  fair  women,  or  of  f  lir  women  who  were  trans- 
formed into  dragons.  And  when  he  started  up  from 
these  grim  visions,  and  saw  the  pale,  cold  moonlight- 
streaming  in  at  the  window,  he  would  turn  an  anx- 
ious look  toward  Undine  ;  she  lay  slumbering  in  un- 
disturbed beauty  and  peace.  Then  he  would  com- 
pose himself  to  sleep  again  —  soon  again  to  wake  in 
terror.  When  he  looked  back  upon  all  this  in  broad 
daylight,  he  was  angry  with  himself  for  having  let  a 
suspicion,  a  shade  of  distrust  of  his  beautiful  wife, 
enter  his  mind.  He  frankly  confessed  to  her  this 
injustice ;  she  answered  him  only  by  pressing  his 
hand,  and  sighing  from  the  bottom  of  her  heart. 
But  a  look,  such  as  her  eyes  had  never  before  given, 
of  the  deepest  and  most  confiding  tenderness,  left 
him  no  doubt  that  she  forgave  him.  So  he  arose 
cheerfully,  and  joined  the  family  in  the  sitting-room. 
The  three  others  were  gathered  round  the  hearth, 


looking  uneasy,  and  neither  of  them  having  ventured 
to  speak  his  thoughts  yet.  The  Priest  seemed  to 
be  secretly  praying  for  deliverance  from  evil.  But 
when  the  young  husband  appeared,  beaming  with 
happiness,  the  care-worn  faces  brightened  up ;  nay, 
the  Fisherman  ventured  upon  a  few  courteous  jokes 
with  the  Knight,  which  won  a  smile  even  from  the 
good  housewife.  Meanwhile  Undine  had  dressed 
herself,  and  now  came  in  ;  they  could  not  help  rising 
to  meet  her,  and  stood  still,  astonished ;  the  young 
creature  was  the  same,  yet  so  different.  The  Priest 
was  the  first  to  address  her,  with  an  air  of  paternal 
kindness,  and  when  he  raised  his  hands  in  benedic- 
tion, the  fair  woman  sank  on  her  knees,  trembling 
with  pious  awe.  In  a  few  meek  and  humble  words, 
she  begged  him  to  forgive  the  folly  of  the  day  before, 
and  besought  him,  with  great  emotion,  to  pray  for  the 
salvation  of  her  soul.  Then  rising,  she  kissed  her 
foster  parents,  and  thanking  them  for  all  their  kind- 
ness, she  said :  "  Oh,  now  I  feel  from  the  bottom  of 
my  heart  how  much  you  have  done  for  me,  how 
deeply  grateful  I  ought  to  be,  dear,  dear  people  ! " 
She  seemed  as  if  she  could  not  caress  them  enough  ; 
but  soon,  observing  the  dame  glance  toward  the 
breakfast,  she  went  toward  the  hearth,  busied  herself 
arranging  and  preparing  the  meal,  and  would  not  suf- 
fer the  good  woman  to  take  the  least  trouble  herself. 
So  she  went  on  all  day ;  at  once  a  young  matron, 
and  a  bashful,  tender,  delicate  bride.  The  three 
who  knew  her  best  were  every  moment  expecting 


48  UNDINE. 

this  mood  to  change,  and  give  place  to  one  of  her 
crazy  fits;  but  they  watched  her  in  vain.  There 
was  still  the  same  angelic  mildness  and  sweetness. 
The  Priest  could  not  keep  his  eyes  away  from  her  ; 
and  he  said  more  than  once  to  the  bridegroom,  "  Sir, 
it  was  a  great  treasure  which  Heaven  bestowed  upon 
you  yesterday,  by  my  poor  ministration  ;  cherish  her 
worthily,  and  she  will  be  to  you  a  blessing  in  time 
and  eternity." 

Toward  evening,  Undine  clasped  the  Knight's 
arm  with  modest  tenderness,  and  gently  led  him  out 
before  the  door,  where  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun 
were  lighting  up  the  fresh  grass,  and  the  tall,  taper 
stems  of  trees.  The  young  wife's  face  wore  a  melt- 
ing expression  of  love  and  sadness,  and  her  lips 
quivered  with  some  anxious,  momentous  secret, 
which  as  yet  betrayed  itself  only  by  scarce  audible 
sighs.  She  silently  led  her  companion  onward ;  if 
he  spoke,  she  replied  by  a  look*  which  gave  him  no 
direct  answer,  but  revealed  a  whole  heaven  of  love 
and  timid  submission.  So  they  reached  the  banks 
of  the  stream  which  had  overflowed,  and  the  Knight 
started  on  finding  the  wild  torrent  changed  into  a 
gentle  rippling  brook,  without  a  trace  of  its  former 
violence  left.  "  By  to-morrow  it  will  have  dried  up 
completely,"  said  the  bride,  in  a  faltering  voice, 
"  and  thou  mayest  begone  whither  thou  wilt."  — 
"  Not  without  thee,  my  Undine,"  said  the  Knight, 
playfully ;  "  consider,  if  I  had  a  mind  to  forsake 
thee,  the  Chin-ch,  the    Emperor,  and  his  ministers 


UNDINE.  49 

might  step  in,  and  bring  thy  truant  home."  —  "  No, 
no,  you  are  free  ;  it  shall  be  as  you  please  ! "  mur- 
mured Undine,  half  tears,  half  smiles.  "  But  I 
think  thou  wilt  not  cast  me  away ;  is  not  my  heart 
bound  up  in  thine  ?  Carry  me  over  to  that  little 
island  opposite.  There  I  will  know  my  fate.  I 
could  indeed  easily  step  through  the  little  waves ; 
but  I  love  to  rest  in  thine  arms !  and  thou  mayest 
cast  me  off;  this  may  be  the  last  time."  Huldbrand, 
full  of  anxious  emotion,  knew  not  how  to  answer. 
He  took  her  up  in  his  arms,  and  carried  her  over, 
now  recollecting  that  from  this  very  island  he  had 
borne  her  home  to  the  Fisherman,  on  the  night  of 
his  arrival.  When  there,  he  placed  his  fair  burden 
on  the  turf,  and  was  going  to  sit  down  by  her ;  but 
she  said,  "No,  sit  there,  opposite  me  —  Iwill  read 
my  doom  in  your  eyes,  before  j'^our  lips  have  spoken 
it.  Now  listen,  and  I  will  tell  you  all."  And  she 
began :  — 

"You  must  know,  my  own  love,  that  in  each  ele- 
ment exists  a  race  of  beings,  whose  form  scarcely 
differs  from  yours,  but  who  very  seldom  appear  to 
mortal  sight.  In  the  flames,  the  wondrous  Sala- 
manders glitter  and  disport  themselves ;  in  the 
depths  of  earth  dwell  the  dry,  spiteful  race  of 
Gnomes;  the  forests  are  peopled  by  Wood-nymphs, 
who  are  also  spirits  of  air ;  and  the  seas,  the  rivers, 
and  brooks  contain  the  numberless  tribes  of  Water- 
sprites.  Their  echoing  halls  of  crystal,  where  the 
light  of  heaven  2)ours  in,  with  its  sun  and  stars,  are 
4, 


50  UNDINE. 

glorious  to  dwell  in ;  the  gardens  contain  beaitiful 
coral  plants,  with  blue  and  red  fruits ;  they  wander 
over  bright  sea-sands,  and  gay-colored  shells,  among 
the  hidden  treasures  of  the  old  world,  too  precious 
to  be  bestowed  on  these  latter  days,  and  long  since 
covered  by  the  silver  mantle  of  the  deep  :  many  a 
noble  monument  still  gleams  there  below,  bedewed 
by  the  tears  of  Ocean,  who  garlands  it  with  flowery 
sea- weeds  and  wreaths  of  shells.  Those  that  dwell 
there  below,  are  noble  and  lovely  to  behold,  ftir  more 
so  than  mankind.  Many  a  fisherman  has  had  a 
passing  glimpse  of  some  fair  water-nymph,  rising 
out  of  the  sea  with  her  song ;  he  would  then  spread 
the  report  of  her  apparition,  and  these  wonderful 
beings  came  to  be  called  Undines.  And  you  now 
see  before  you,  my  love,  an  Undine." 

The  Knight  tried  to  persuade  himself  that  his  fair 
wife  was  in  one  of  her  wild  moods,  and  had  invented 
this  strange  tale  in  sport.  But  though  he  said  this 
to  himself,  he  could  not  for  a  moment  believe  it ;  a 
mysterious  feeling  thrilled  him ;  and,  unable  to  utter 
a  word,  he  kept  his  eyes  riveted  on  the  beautiful 
speaker.  She  shook  her  head  sadly,  heaved  a  deep 
sigh,  and  went  on  :  — 

"  We  might  be  happier  than  our  human  fellow- 
creatures,  (for  we  call  you  fellow-creatures,  as  our 
forms  are  alike,)  but  for  one  great  evil.  We,  and 
the  other  children  of  the  elements,  go  down  to  the 
dust,  body  and  spirit ;  not  a  trace  of  us  remains ; 
and  when  the  time  comes  for  you  to  rise  again  to  a 


UNDINE.  51 

glorified  existence,  we  shall  have  perished  with  our 
native  sands,  flames,  winds,  and  waves.  For  we 
have  no  souls  ;  the  elements  move  us,  obey  us  while 
we  live,  close  over  us  when  we  die ;  and  we  light 
spirits  live  as  free  from  care  as  the  nightingale,  tlie 
gold-fish,  and  all  such  bright  children  of  Nature. 
But  no  creatures  rest  content  in  their  appointed 
place.  My  father,  who  is  a  mighty  prince  in  the 
Mediterranean  Sea,  determined  that  his  only  child 
should  be  endowed  with  a  soul,  even  at  the  cost  of 
much  suffering,  which  is  ever  the  lot  of  souls.  But 
a  soul  can  be  infused  into  one  of  our  race,  only  by 
being  united  in  the  closest  bands  of  love  to  one  of 
yours.  And  now  I  have  obtained  a  soul ;  to  thee  I 
owe  it,  O  best  beloved!  and  for  that  gift  I  shall 
ever  bless  thee,  unless  thou  dost  devote  my  whole 
futurity  to  misery.  For  what  is  to  become  of  me 
should  thou  recoil  from  me,  and  cast  me  off?  Yet 
I  would  not  detain  thee  by  deceit.  And  if  I  am  to 
leave  thee,  say  so  now ;  go  back  to  the  land  alone. 
I  will  plunge  into  this  brook ;  it  is  my  uncle,  who 
leads  a  wonderful,  sequestered  life  in  this  forest, 
away  from  all  his  friends.  But  he  is  powerful,  and 
allied  to  many  great  rivers ;  and  as  he  brought  me 
here  to  the  Fisherman,  a  gay  and  laughing  child,  so 
he  is  ready  to  take  me  back  to  my  parents,  a  loving, 
suffering,  forsaken  w^oman." 

She  would  have  gone  on  ;  but  Huldbrand,  full  of 
compassion  and  love,  caught  her  in  his  arms,  and 
carried  her  back.     There,  with  tears  and  kisses,  he 


52  UNDINE. 

swore  never  to  forsake  his  beloved  wife  ;  and  said  he 
felt  more  blessed  than  the  Greek  statuary  Pygma- 
lion, whose  beautiful  statue  dame  Venus  transformed 
into  a  living  woman.  Hanging  on  his  arm  in  peace- 
ful reliance.  Undine  returned ;  and  she  felt  from  her 
inmost  heart,  how  little  cause  she  had  to  regret  the 
crystal  palaces  of  her  father. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

HOW    THE    KNIGHT    AND    HIS    YOUNG    BRIDE    DE- 
PARTED. 

When  Huldbrand  .awoke  from  sleep  the  next 
morning,  he  missed  his  fair  companion  ;  and  again 
he  was  tormented  with  a  doubt,  whether  his  mar- 
riage, and  the  lovely  Undine,  might  not  be  all  a  fairy 
dream.  But  she  soon  reappeared,  came  up  to  him, 
and  said,  "  I  have  been  out  early,  to  see  if  my  uncle 
had  kept  his  word.  He  has  recalled  all  the  straying 
waters  into  his  quiet  bed,  and  now  takes  his  lonely 
and  pensive  course  through  the  forest  as  he  used  to 
do.  His  friends  in  the  lake  and  the  air  are  gone  to 
rest  also  ;  all  things  have  returned  to  their  usual 
calmness ;  and  you  may  set  out  homeward  on  dry 
land,  as  soon  as  you  please."  Huldbrand  felt  as  if 
dreaming  still,  so  little  could  he  understand  his 
wife's  wonderful  relations.  But  he  took  no  notice 
of  this,  and  his  sweet  Undine's  gentle  attentions  soon 
charmed  every  uneasy  thought  away. 

A  little  while  after,  as  they  stood  at  the  door  to- 
gether, looking  over,  the  fair  scene  with  its  bound- 
ary of  clear  waters,  his  heart  yearned  so  toward 
this  cradle  of  his  love  that   he  said,  —  "  But  why 


54  *  UNDINE. 

should  we  go  away  so  soon  ?  we  shall  never  spend 
happier  days  in  yonder  world,  than  we  have  passed 
in  this  peaceful  nook.  Let  us  at  least  see  two  or 
three  more  suns  go  down  here."  —  "  As  my  Lord 
wishes,"  answered  Undine,  with  cheerful  submission ; 
"but,  you  see,  the  old  people  will  be  grieved  at  part- 
ing with  me,  whenever  it  is ;  and  if  we  give  them 
time  to  become  acquainted  with  my  soul,  and  with 
its  new  powers  of  loving  and  honoring  them,  I  fear 
that  when  I  go,  their  aged  hearts  will  break  under 
the  load  of  sorrow.  As  yet,  they  take  my  gentle 
mood  for  a  passing  whim,  such  as  they  saw  me  liable 
to  formerly,  like  a  calm  on  the  lake  when  the  winds 
are  lulled ;  and  they  will  soon  begin  to  love  some 
favorite  tree  or  flower  in  my  place.  They  must 
not  learn  to  know  this  newly  obtained,  affectionate 
heart,  in  the  first  overflowings  of  its  tenderness,  just 
at  the  moment  when  they  are  to  lose  me  for  this 
world  ;  and  how  could  I  disguise  it  from  them,  if  we 
remained  together  longer  ?  " 

Huldbrand  agreed  with  her;  he  went  to  the  old 
couple,  and  finding  them  ready  to  consent,  he  re- 
solved upon  setting  out  that  very  hour.  The  Priest 
offered  to  accompany  them ;  after  a  hasty  farewell, 
the  pretty  bride  was  placed  on  the  horse  by  her 
husband,  and  they  crossed  the  stream's  dry  bed 
quickly,  and  entered  the  forest.  Undine  shed  silent 
but  bitter  tears,  while  the  old  folks  wailed  after  her 
aloud.  It  seemed  as  if  some  foreboding  were  cross- 
ing their  minds,  of  how  great  their  loss  would  prove 


^mg,   \ 


UNDINE.  55 

The  three  travellers  reached  the  deepest  shades 
of  the  forest,  without  breaking  silence.  It  was  a 
fair  sight  to  behold,  as  they  passed  through  the  leafy- 
bowers  :  the  graceful  woman  sitting  on  her  noble 
steed,  guarded  on  one  side  by  the  venerable  Priest 
in  the  white  habit  of  his  order ;  on  the  other,  by  the 
youthful  Knight,  with  his  gorgeous  attire  and  glitter- 
ing sword.  Huld brand  had  no  eyes  but  for  his 
precious  wife  ;  Undine,  who  had  dried  her  duteous 
tears,  no  thought  but  for  him ;  and  they  soon  fell 
into  a  noiseless  interchange  of  glances  and  signs, 
which  at  length  was  interrupted  by  the  sound  of  a 
low  murmur,  proceeding  from  the  Priest  and  a 
fourth  fellow-traveller,  who  had  joined  them  unob- 
served. He  wore  a  white  robe,  very  like  the  Priest's 
dress,  except  that  the  hood  almost  covered  his  face, 
and  the  rest  of  it  floated  round  him  in  such  large 
folds  that  he  was  perpetually  obliged  to  gather  it 
up,  throw  it  over  his  arm,  or  otherwise  arrange  it ; 
yet  it  did  not  seem  to  impede  him  at  all  in  walking ; 
when  the  young  people  saw  him  he  was  saying, 
"  And  so,  my  worthy  father,  I  have  dwelt  in  the  for- 
est for  many  a  year,  yet  I  am  not  what  you  commonly 
call  a  hermit.  For,  as  I  told  you,  I  know  nothing 
of  penance,  nor  do  I  think  it  would  do  me  much 
good.  What  makes  me  so  fond  of  the  woods  is,  that 
I  have  a  very  particular  fancy  for  winding  through 
the  dark  shades  and  forest  walks,  with  my  loose 
white  clothes  floating  about  me ;  now  and  then  a 
pretty  sunbeam  will  glance  over  me  as  I  go." — "  You 


66  UNDINE. 

seem  to  be  a  very  curious  person,"  replied  the  Priest, 
"  and  I  should  like  to  know  more  about  you."  — 
"And  pray  who  are  you,  to  carry  on  the  acquaint- 
ance ?  "  said  the  stranger.  "  They  call  me  Father 
Heilmann,"  answered  the 'Priest,  "  and  I  belong  to 
St.  Mary's  monastery,  beyond  the  lake."  —  "  Ay, 
ay !  "  rejoined  the  other.  "  My  name  is  Kuhleborn, 
and  if  I  stood  upon  ceremony,  I  might  well  call  my- 
self Lord  of  Kuhleborn,  or  Baron  (Freiherr)  Kiihle- 
boru ;  for  free  I  an],  as  the  bird  of  the  air,  or  a  trifle 
more  free.  For  instance,  I  must  now  have  a  word 
with  the  young  woman  there."  And  before  they 
could  look  round,  he  was  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Priest,  close  to  Undine,  and  stretching  up  his  tall 
figure  to  whisper  in  her  ear.  But  she  turned  hastily 
away,  saying,  "  I  have  nothing  more  to  do  with  you 
now."  —  "  Heyday  !  "  said  the  stranger,  laughing, 
"  what  a  prodigiously  grand  marriage  yours  nmst  be, 
if  you  are  to  cast  off  your  relations  in  this  way ! 
Have  you  forgotten  Uncle  Kuhleborn,  who  brought 
you  all  the  way  here  on  his  back  so  kindly  ?  " 

"  But  I  entreat  you,"  said  Undine,  "  never  come  to 
me  again.  I  am  afraid  of  you  now ;  and  will  not  my 
husband  become  afraid  of  me,  if  he  finds  I  have  so 
strange  a  family  ?  "  —  "  My  little  niece,"  said  Kuhle- 
born, "  please  to  remember  that  I  am  protecting 
you  all  this  time  ;  the  foul  Spirits  of  Earth  might 
play  you  troublesome  tricks  if  I  did  not.  So  you 
had  better  let  me  go  on  with  you,  and  no  more 
words.     The  old  Priest  there  has  a  better  memory 


UNDINE.  67 

than  yours,  for  he  would  have  it  he  knew  my  face 
very  well,  and  that  I  must  have  been  with  him  in 
the  boat,  when  he  fell  into  the  water.  And  he  may 
well  say  so,  seeing  that  the  wave  which  washed  him 
over  was  none  but  myself^  and  I  landed  him  safe  on 
the  shore,  in  time  for  your  wedding." 

Undine  and  the  Knight  looked  at  Father  Heil- 
mann,  but  he  seemed  to  be  plodding  on  in  a  waking 
dream,  and  not  listening  to  what  was  said.  Undine 
said  to  Kiihleborn,  "  There,  I  can  see  the  end  of  the 
wood  ;  we  want  your  help  no  longer,  and  there  is 
nothing  to  disturb  us  but  you.  So,  in  love  and 
kindness  I  entreat  you,  begone,  and  let  us  go  in 
peace."  This  seemed  to  make  Kiihleborn  angry; 
he  twisted  his  face  hideously,  and  hissed  at  Undine, 
who  cried  aloud  for  help.  Like  lightning  the 
Knight  passed  round  her  horse,  and  aimed  a  blow 
at  Kiihleborn's  head  with  his  sword.  But  instead 
of  the  head,  he  struck  into  a  water-fall,  which  gushed 
foaming  down  a  high  cliff  near  them,  and  now 
showered  them  all  with  a  splash  that  sounded  like 
laughter,  and  wetted  them  to  the  bone.  The  Priest, 
seeming  to  wake  up,  said,  "Well,  I  was  expecting 
this,  because  th^t  brook  gushed  down  the  rock  so 
close  to  us.  At  first  I  could  not  shake  off  the  idea 
that  it  was  a  man,  and  was  speaking  to  me."  The 
water-fall  whispered  distinctly  in  Huldbrand's  ear, 
"  Rash  youth,  dashing  youth,  I  chide  thee  not,  I 
shame  thee  not ;  still  shield  thy  precious  wife  safe 
and  sure,  rash  young  soldier,  dashing  Knight ! " 


68 


UNDINE. 


A  little  further  on  they  emerged  into  the  open 
plains.  The  city  lay  glittering  before  them,  and  the 
evening  sun  that  gilded  her  towers,  lent  its  grateful 
warmth  to  dry  their  soaked  garments. 


CHAPTER   X. 


OF    THEIR    WAY    OF    LIFE    IN    THE    TOWN. 


The  sudden  disappearance  of  the  young  Knight 
Huldbrand  of  Ringstetten  had  made  a  great  stir  in 
the  city,  and  distressed  the  inhabitants,  with  whom 
liis  gallantry  in  the  lists  and  the  dance,  and  his  gen- 
tle, courteous  manners,  had  made  him  very  popular. 
His  retainers  would  not  leave  the  place  without  their 
master,  but  yet  none  had  the  courage  to  seek  him  in 
the  haunted  forest.  They  therefore  remained  in 
their  hostelry,  idly  hoping,  as  men  are  so  apt  to  do, 
and  keeping  alive  the  remembrance  of  their  lost  lord 
by  lamentations.  But  soon  after,  when  the  tempest 
raged  and  the  rivers  overflowed,  few  doubted  that  the 
handsome  stranger  must  have  perished.  Bertalda, 
among  others,  mourned  him  for  lost,  and  was  ready 
to  curse  herself,  for  having  urged  him  to  the  fatal 
ride  through  the  forest.  Her  ducal  foster  parents 
had  arrived  to  take  her  away,  but  she  prevailed  upon 
them  to  wait  a  little,  in  hope  that  a  true  report  of 
Huldbrand's  death  or  safety  might  reach  them.  She 
tried  to  persuade  some  one  of  the  young  knights  who 
contended  for  her  favor,  to  venture  into  the  forest 
and  seek  for  the  noble  adventurer.     But  she  would 


60  UNDINE. 

not  offer  her  hand  as  the  reward,  because  she  still 
hoped  to  bestow  it  some  day  on  the  wanderer  him- 
self; and  to  obtain  a  glove,  a  scarf,  or  some  such 
token  from  her,  none  of  them  cared  to  expose  his 
life  to  bring  back  so  dangerous  a  rival. 

Now,  when  Huldbrand  unexpectedly  reappeared, 
it  spread  joy  among  his  servants,  and  all  the  people 
generally,  except  Bertalda ;  for  while  the  others 
were  pleased  at  his  bringing  with  him  such  a  beauti- 
ful wife,  and  Father  Heilmann  to  bear  witness  to 
their  marriage,  it  could  not  but  grieve  her :  first,  be- 
cause the  young  Knight  had  really  won  her  heart ; 
and  next,  because  she  had  betrayed  her  feelings  by 
so  openly  lamenting  his  absence,  far  more  than  was 
now  becoming.  However,  she  behaved  like  a  pru- 
dent woman,  and  suited  her  conduct  to  the  circum- 
stances, by  living  in  the  most  cordial  intimacy  with 
Undine,  —  who  passed  in  the  town  for  a  princess,  re- 
leased by  Huldbrand  from  the  power  of  some  wicked 
enchanter  of  the  forest.  If  she  or  her  husband 
were  questioned  about  it,  they  gave  evasive  answers  ; 
Father  Heilmann's  lips  were  sealed  on  all  such  idle 
topics,  besides  which,  he  had  left  them  soon  after 
they  arrived,  and  returned  to  his  cloister:  so  the 
citizens  were  left  to  their  own  wondering  conject- 
ures, and  even  Bertalda  came  no  nearer  the  truth 
than  others. 

Meanwhile,  Undine  grew  daily  more  fond  of  this 
winning  damsel.  "  We  must  have  known  each 
other  before,"  she  would  often  say,  "  or  else  some 


UNDINE.  61 

secret  attraction  draws  us  toward  each  other;  for 
without  some  cause,  some  strange,  mysterious  cause, 
I  am  sure  nobody  would  love  another  as  I  have  loved 
you  from  the  moment  we  met."  Bertalda,  on  her 
part,  could  not  deny  that  she  felt  strongly  inclined 
to  like  Undine,  notwithstanding  the  grounds  of  com- 
plaint she  thought  she  had  against  this  happy  rival. 
The  affection  being  mutual,  the  one  persuaded  her 
parents,  the  other  her  wedded  lord,  to  defer  the  day 
of  departure  repeatedly ;  they  even  went  so  far  as 
to  propose  that  Bertalda  should  accompany  Undine 
to  the  castle  of  Ringstetten,  near  the  source  of  the 
Danube. 

They  were  talking  of  this  one  fine  evening,  as 
they  sauntered  by  starlight  round  the  market-place, 
which  was  surrounded  by  high  trees ;  the  young 
couple  had  invited  Bertalda  to  join  their  evening 
stroll,  and  they  now  paced  backward  and  forward 
in  pleasant  talk,  with  the  dark  blue  sky  over  their 
heads,  and  a  beautiful  fountain  before  them  in  the 
centre,  which,  as  it  bubbled  and  sprang  up  into  fan- 
ciful shapes,  often  caught  their  attention,  and  inter- 
rupted the  conversation.  All  around  them  was  serene 
and  pleasant ;  through  the  foliage  gleamed  the  light 
of  many  a  lamp  from  the  surrounding  houses ;  and 
the  ear  was  soothed  by  the  hum  of  children  at  play, 
and  of  sauntering  groups  like  themselves ;  they  en- 
ioyed  at  once  the  pleasure  of  solitude,  and  the  social 
happiness  of  being  near  the  cheerful  haunts  of  men. 
Every  little  difficulty  that  had  occurred  to  their  fa 


62  UNDINE. 

vorite  plan,  seemed  to  vanish  upon  nearer  examina- 
tion, and  the  three  friends  could  not  imagine  that 
Bertalda's  consent  to  the  journey  need  be  delayed  a 
moment.  But  as  she  was  on  the  point  of  naming  a 
day  for  joining  them  and  setting  out,  a  very  tall  man 
came  forward  from  the  middle  of  the  place,  bowed 
to  them  respectfully,  and  began  whispering  in  Un- 
dine's ear.  She,  though  apparently  displeased  with 
the  interruption  and  with  the  speaker,  stepped  aside 
with  him,  and  they  began  a  low  discourse  together, 
in  what  sounded  like  a  foreign  language.  Huld- 
brand  thought  he  knew  this  strange  man's  face,  and 
fixed  his  attention  upon  him  so  earnestly,  that  he 
neither  heard  nor  answered  the  astonished  Bertalda's 
questions.  All  at  once  Undine  clapped  her  hands 
joyfully,  and  turned  her  back,  laughing,  upon  the 
stranger ;  he  shook  his  head  and  walked  off  in  an 
angry,  hurried  manner,  and  stepped  into  the  foun- 
tain. This  confirmed  Huldbrand  in  his  guess  ;  while 
Bertalda  inquired,  "  My  dear  Undine,  what  business 
had  that  man  of  the  fountain  with  you  ? "  Her 
friend  smiled  archly  and  replied,  "  On  your  birthday, 
the  day  after  to-morrow,  I  will  tell  you,  my  sweet 
girl ; "  and  she  would  say  no  more.  She  only 
pressed  Bertalda  to  come  and  dine  with  them  on 
that  day,  and  bring  her  foster  parents ;  after  which 
they  separated. 

"  Kiihleborn  ?  "  said  Huldbrand  to  his  wife  with  a 
suppressed  shudder,  as  they  walked  home  through 
the  dark  streets.     "  Yes,  it  was  he,  replied  Undine, 


UNDINE. 


68 


"  and  he  tried  to  put  all  sorts  of  nonsense  into  my 
head.  However,  without  intending  it  he  delighted 
me  by  one  piece  of  news.  If  you  wish  to  hear  it, 
now,  my  kind  lord,  you  have  but  to  say  so,  and  I 
will  tell  you  every  word.  But  if  you  like  to  give 
your  Undine  a  very  great  delight,  you  will  wait  two 
days,  and  then  have  your  share  in  the  surprise." 

The  Knight  readily  granted  her  what  she  had 
asked  so  meekly  and  gracefully  ;  and  as  she  dropped 
asleep  she  nmrmured,  "  How  it  will  delight  her ! 
how  little  she  expects  such  a  message  from  the  mys- 
terious man  —  dear,  dear  Bertalda ! " 


CHAPTER   XL 

bertalda's  birthday. 

The  guests  were  now  assembled  at  table ;  Ber- 
fcalda  sat  at  the  top,  adorned  with  flowers  like  the 
goddess  of  spring,  and  flashing  with  jewels,  the  gifts' 
of  many  friends  and  relations.  Undine  and  Hiild- 
brand  were  on  either  side  of  her.  When  the  sumpt- 
uous meal  was  ended,  and  the  dessert  served,  the 
doors  were  opened  —  according  to  the  good  old 
German  custom  —  to  let  the  common  people  look  in 
and  have  their  share  in  the  gayety  of  the  rich.  The 
attendants  offered  wine  and  cake  to  the  assembled 
crowd.  Huldbrand  and  Bertalda  were  eagerly  watch- 
ing for  the  promised  disclosure,  and  both  kept  their 
eyes  fixed  upon  Undine.  But  she  was  still  silent ; 
her  cheeks  dimpled  occasionally  with  a  bright,  con- 
scious smile.  Those  that  knew  what  she  was  about 
to  do,  could  perceive  that  her  interesting  secret  was 
ready  to  burst  from  her  lips,  but  that  she  was  play- 
fully determined  to  keep  it  in,  as  children  .sometimes 
will  save  their  daintiest  morsels  for  the  last.  Her 
silent  glee  communicated  itself  to  the  other  two, 
who  watched  impatiently  for  the  happy  news  that 
was  about  to  gladden    their   hearts.     Some  of  the 


UNDINE.  66 

company  now  asked  Undine  for  a  song.  She  seemed 
to  be  prepared  with  one,  and  sent  for  her  lute,  to 
wMch  she  sang  as  follows  :  — 

The  sun  gilds  the  wave, 

The  flowers  are  sweet, 
And  the  ocean  doth  lave 

The  grass  at  our  feet ! 

What  lies  on  the  earth 

So  blooming  and  gay? 
Doth  a  blossom  peep  forth 

And  greet  the  new  day  ? 

Ah,  'tis  a  fair  child ! 

She  sports  with  the  flowers, 
So  gladsome  and  mild, 

Through  the  warm  sunny  hours* 

O  sweet  one,  who  brought  thee  ? 

From  far  distant  shore 
Old  Ocean  he  caught  thee, 

And  many  a  league  bore. 

Poor  babe,  all  in  vain 

Thou  dost  put  forth  thy  hand; 
None  clasp  it  again, 

'T  is  a  bleak  foreign  land: 

The  flowers  bloom  brightly, 

And  soft  breathes  the  air, 
But  all  pass  thee  lightly : 

Thy  mother  is  far ! 

Thy  life  scarce  begun, 

Thy  smiles  fresh  from  heaven, 
Thy  best  treasure  is  gone. 

To  another  '  t  is  given ! 
5 


66  UNDINE. 

A  gallant  charger  treads  the  dell, 

His  noble  rider  pities  thee : 
He  takes  thee  home,  he  tends  thee  well, 

And  cares  for  thee  right  gen'rously. 

Well  thou  becom'st  thy  station  high, 
And  bloom'st  the  fairest  in  the  land; 

And  yet,  alas!  the  purest  joy 
Is  left  on  thine  own  distant  strand. 

Undine  put  down  her  lute  with  a  melancholy  smile  ; 
and  the  eyes  of  the  Duke  and  Duchess  filled  with 
tears  :  "  So  it  was  when  I  found  you,  my  poor  inno- 
cent orphan  ! "  said  the  Duke  with  great  emotion ; 
"  as  the  fair  singer  said,  your  best  treasure  was  gone, 
and  we  have  been  unable  to  supply  its  place." 

"  Now  let  us  think  of  the  poor  parents,"  said  Un- 
dine ;  and  she  struck  the  chords  and  sang :  — 

I. 

Mother  roves  from  room  to  room 

Seeking  rest,  she  knows  not  how . 
The  house  is  silent  as  the  tomb, 

And  who  is  there  to  bless  her  now  ? 


Silent  house !     Oh  words  of  sorrow ! 

Where  is  now  her  darling  child  ? 
She  who  should  have  cheered  the  morrow, 

And  the  evening  hours  beguiled  ?  - 


The  buds  are  swelling  on  the  tree, 
The  sun  returns  when  night  is  o'er; 

But,  mothei-,  ne'er  comes  joy  to  thee, 

Thy  child  shall  bless  thine  eyes  no  more  I 


UNDINE.  67 


And  when  the  evening  breezes  dIow, 
And  father  seeks  his  own  fireside, 

He  smiles,  forgetful  of  his  woe, 

But  ah  !  his  tears  that  smile  shall  hide. 


Father  knows  that  in  his  home 

Deathlike  stillness  dwells  for  aye  ; 

The  voice  of  mirth  no  more  shall  come. 

And  mother  sighs  the  livelong  day. 

"O  Undine,  for  God's  sake,  where  are  my  par- 
ents ?  "  cried  Bertalda,  weeping.  "  Surely  you  know, 
you  have  discovered  it,  most  wonderful  woman  ;  else 
how  could  you  have  stirred  my  inmost  heart  as  you 
have  done?  They  are  perhaps  even  now  in  the 
room  —  can  it  be  ?  "  —  and  her  eyes  glanced  over 
the  gay  assembly,  and  fixed  upon  a  reigning  Princess 
who  sat  next  to  the  Duke.  But  Undine  bent  for- 
ward to  the  door,  her  eyes  overflowing  with  the  hap- 
piest tears.  "  Where  are  they,  the  poor  anxious 
parents  ? "  said  she  ;  and  the  old  Fisherman  and 
his  wife  came  out  from  the  crowd  of  by-standers. 
They  turned  an  inquiring  eye  upon  Undine,  and  then 
upon  the  handsome  lady  whom  they  were  to  call 
daughter.  "  There  she  is,"  faltered  the  delighted 
Undine,  and  the  aged  couple  caught  their  long-lost 
child  in  their  arms,  thanking  God,  and  weeping 
aloud. 

Affrighted  and  enraged,  Bertalda  shrank  from 
their  embrace.  It  was  more  than  her  proud  spirit 
could  bear,  to  be  thus  degraded ;  at  a  moment,  too, 


68  UNDINE. 

when  she  was  fully  expecting  an  increase  of  splen- 
dor, and  fancy  was  showering  pearls  and  diadems 
upon  her  head.  She  suspected  that  her  rival  had 
contrived  this,  on  purpose  to  mortify  her  before 
Huldbrand  and  all  the  world.  She  reviled  both  Un- 
dine and  the  old  people ;  the  hateful  words,  "  Treach- 
erous creature !  and  bribed  wretches  !  "  burst  from 
her  lips.  The  old  woman  said  in  a  half  whisper, 
"  Dear  me,  she  has  grown  up  a  wicked  woman  ;  and 
yet  my  heart  tells  me  she  is  my  own  child."  The 
Fisherman  had  clasped  his  hands,  and  was  praying 
silently  that  this  girl  might  not  prove  to  be  theirs 
indeed.  Undine,  pale  as  death,  looked  from  Bertalda 
to  the  parents,  from  the  parents  to  Bertalda,  and 
could  not  recover  the  rude  shock  she  had  sustained, 
at  being  plunged  from  all  her  happy  dreams  into  a 
state  of  fear  and  misery,  such  as  she  had  never 
known  before. 

"  Have  you  a  soul  ?  Have  you  indeed  a  soul,  Ber- 
talda ?  "  she  exclaimed  once  or  twice,  trying  to  re- 
call her  angry  friend  to  reason,  from  what  she  took 
for  a  fit  of  madness,  or  a  kind  of  nightmare.  But 
Bertalda  only  stormed  the  louder ;  the  repulsed  par- 
ents wailed  piteously,  and  the  company  began  to  dis- 
pute angrily  and  to  side  with  one  or  the  other ;  when 
Undine  stepped  forward,  and  asked  with  so  much 
earnest  gentleness  to  be  listened  to  in  her  husband's 
house,  that  all  was  hushed  in  a  moment.  She  took 
the  place  which  Bertalda  had  left,  at  the  head  of  the 
table,  and  as  she  stood  there  in  modest  dignity,  the 


UNDINE.  69 

eyes  of  all  turned  toward  her,  and  she  said  :  "  You  all 
that  cast  such  angry  looks  at  each  other,  and  so  cru- 
elly spoil  the  joy  of  my  poor  feast,  alas !  I  little 
knew  what  your  foolish  angry  passions  were,  and  I 
think  I  never  shall  understand  you.  What  I  had 
hoped  would  do  so  much  good  has  led  to  all  this ; 
but  that  is  not  my  fault,  it  is  your  own  doing,  believe 
me ;  I  have  little  more  to  say,  but  one  thing  you 
must  hear :  I  have  told  no  falsehood.  Proofs  I  have 
none  to  give,  beyond  my  word,  but  I  will  swear  to 
the  truth,  of  it.  I  heard  it  from  him  who  decoyed 
Bertalda  from  her  parents  into  the  water,  and  then 
laid  her  down  in  the  meadow  where  the  Duke  was 
to  pass." 

"  She  is  a  sorceress,"  cried  Bertalda,  "  a  witch 
who  has  dealings  with  evil  spirits  !  she  has  acknowl- 
edged it." 

"  I  have  not,"  said  Undine,  with  a  heaven  of  inno- 
cence and  guilelessness  in  her  eyes.  "  Nor  am  I  a 
witch  —  only  look  at  me  ! " 

"  Then  she  lies,"  cried  Bertalda,  "  and  she  dares 
not  assert  that  I  was  born  of  these  mean  people. 
My  noble  parents,  I  beseech  you  take  me  out  of  this 
room,  and  this  town,  where  they  are  leagued  together 
to  insult  me." 

But  the  venerable  Duke  stood  still,  and  his  lady 
said,  "  We  must  first  sift  this  matter  to  the  bottom. 
Nothing  shall  make  me  leave  the  room  till  my 
doubts  are  satisfied." 

Then  the  old  woman  came  up,  made  a  deep  obei* 


70  UNDINE. 

Bance  to  the  Duchess,  and  said,  "  You  give  me  cour- 
age to  speak,  my  noble,  worthy  lady.  I  must  tell 
you,  that  if  this  ungodly  young  woman  is  my  daugh- 
ter, I  shall  know  her  by  a  violet  mark  between  her 
shoulders,  and  another  on  the  left  instep.  If  she 
would  but  come  with  me  into  another  room  "  — 

"  I  will  not  uncover  myself  before  that  country- 
woman," said  Bertalda,  proudly  turning  away. 

"  But  before  me,  you  will,"  rejoined  the  Duchess 
gravely.  "You  shall  go  with  me  into  that  room, 
young  woman,  and  the  good  dame  will  accompany 
us."  They  withdrew  together,  leaving  the  party  in 
silent  suspense.  In  a  few  minutes  they  came  back ; 
Bertalda  was  deadly  pale,  and  the  Duchess  said, 
"  Truth  is  truth,  and  I  am  bound  to  declare  that  our 
Lady  Hostess  has  told  us  perfectly  right.  Bertalda 
is  the  Fisherman's  daughter ;  more  than  that,  it  con- 
cerns nobody  to  know."  And  the  princely  pair  de- 
parted, taking  with  them  their  adopted  child,  and 
followed  (upon  a  sign  from  the  Duke)  by  the  Fish- 
erman and  his  wife.  The  rest  of  the  assembly  broke 
up,  in  silence  or  with  secret  murmurs,  and  Undine 
sank  into  Huldbrand's  arms,  weeping  bitterly. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

HOW    THEY    LEFT    THE    IMPERIAL    CITY. 

There  was  certainly  much  to  displease  the  Lord 
of  Ringstetten  in  the  events  of  this  day ;  yet  he 
could  not  look  back  upon  them,  without  feeling 
proud  of  the  guileless  truth  and  the  generosity  of 
heart  shown  by  his  lovely  wife.  "  If  indeed  her  soul 
was  my  gift,"  thought  he,  "  it  is  nevertheless  much 
better  than  my  own  ;  "  and  he  devoted  himself  to  the 
task  of  soothing  her  grief,  and  determined  he  would 
take  her  away  the  next  morning  from  a  spot  now  so 
full  of  bitter  recollections. 

They  were  mistaken,  however,  in  thinking  that 
she  had  lost  in  the  eyes  of  the  world  by  this  adven- 
ture. So  prepared  were  the  minds  of  the  people  to 
find  something  mysterious  in  her,  that  her  strange 
discovery  of  Bertalda's  origin  scarcely  surprised 
them ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  every  one  that 
heard  of  Bertalda's  history  and  of  her  passionate 
behavior,  was  moved  with  indignation.  Of  this,  the 
Knight  and  Undine  were  not  aware  ;  nor  would  it 
have  given  them  any  comfort,  for  she  was  still  as 
jealous  of  Bertalda's   good   name    as  of  her  own. 


72  UNDINE. 

Upon  the  whole,  they  had  no  greater  wish  than  to 
leave  the  town  without  delay. 

At  daybreak  next  morning,  Undine's  chariot  was 
in  readiness  at  the  door,  and  the  steeds  of  Huld- 
brand  and  of  his  squires  stood  around  it,  pawing 
the  ground  with  impatience.  As  the  Knight  led  his 
fair  bride  to  the  door,  a  fishing  girl  accosted  them. 
"  We  want  no  fish,"  said  Huldbrand ;  "  we  are  just 
going  away."  The  girl  began  to  sob  bitterly,  and 
they  then  recognized  her  as  Bertalda.  They  imme- 
diately turned  back  into  the  house  with  her;  and 
she  said  that  the  Duke  and  Duchess  had  been  so 
incensed  at  her  violence  the  day  before,  as  to  with- 
draw their  protection  from  her,  though  not  without 
giving  her  a  handsome  allowance.  The  Fisherman 
too  had  received  a  liberal  gift,  and  had  departed  that 
evening  with  his  wife,  to  return  to  the  promontory. 
"I  would  have  gone  with  them,"  she  continued, 
"  but  the  old  Fisherman,  whom  they  call  my 
father"  — 

"  And  so  he  is,  Bertalda,"  interrupted  Undine. 
"  He  is  your  father.  For  the  man  you  saw  at  the 
fountain  told  me  how  it  is.  He  was  trying  to  per- 
suade me  that  I  had  better  not  take  you  to  Ringstet- 
ten,  and  he  let  drop  the  secret." 

"Well  then,"  said  Bertalda,  "my  father  —  if  so  it 
must  be  —  my  father  said,  '  You  shall  not  live  with 
us  till  you  are  an  altered  creature.  Take  courage, 
and  come  across  the  haunted  forest  to  us ;  that  will 
show  that  you  sincerely  wish  to  belong  to  your  par- 


M 


UNDIlfE.  78 

ents.  But  do  not  come  in  your  finery  ;  be  like  what 
you  are,  a  fisherman's  daughter.'  And  1  will  do  as 
he  bids  me  ;  for  the  whole  world  has  forsaken  me, 
and  I  have  nothing  left,  but  to  live  and  die  humbly 
in  a  poor  hut,  alone  with  my  lowly  parents.  I  do 
dread  the  forest  very  much.  They  say  it  is  full  of 
grim  spectres,  and  I  am  so  timid  !  But  what  can  I 
do?  I  came  here  only  to  implore  the  Lady  of 
Ringstetten's  pardon  for  my  rude  language  yester- 
day. I  have  no  doubt  you  meant  what  you  did 
kindly,  noble  Dame ;  but  you  little  knew  what  a 
trial  your  words  would  be  to  me,  and  I  was  so 
alarmed  and  bewildered,  that  many  a  hasty,  wicked 
word  escaped  my  lips.  Ah  forgive  me,  forgive  me  ! 
I  am  unhappy  enough  already.  Only  consider  what 
I  was  yesterday  morning,  even  at  the  beginning  of 
your  feast,  and  what  I  am  now." 

Her  words  were  lost  in  a  flood  of  bitter  tears,  and 
Undine,  equally  affected,  fell  weeping  on  her  neck. 
It  was  long  before  her  emotion  Vould  let  her  speak : 
at  length  she  said,  "  You  shall  go  to  Ringstetten  with 
us  ;  all  shall  be  as  we  had  settled  it  before  ;  only  call 
me  Undine  again,  and  not '  Lady '  and '  noble  Dame.' 
You  see,  we  began  by  being  exchanged  in  our  cra- 
dles ;  our  lives  have  been  linked  from  that  hour,  and 
we  will  try  to  bind  them  so  closely  that  no  human 
power  shall  sever  us.  Come  with  us  to  Ringstetten, 
and  all  will  be  well.  We  will  live  like  sisters  there, 
trust  me  for  arranging  that."  Bertalda  looked  tim- 
idly at  Huldbrand.     The  sight  of  this  beautiful,  for- 


74  UNDINE. 

saken  maiden  affected  him ;  he  gave  her  his  hand, 
and  encouraged  her  kindlj^  to  trust  herself  to  him 
and  liis  wife.  "  As  to  your  parents,"  said  he,  *^  we 
will  let  them  know  why  you  do  not  appear  ;  "  and  he 
would  have  said  much  more  concerning  the  good 
old  folks,  but  he  observed  that  Bertalda  shuddered 
at  the  mention  of  them,  and  therefore  dropped  the 
subject.  He  gave  her  his  arm,  placed  first  her  and 
then  Undine  in  the  carriage,  and  rode  cheerfully 
after  them ;  he  urged  the  drivers  on  so  effectually, 
that  they  very  soon  found  themselves  out  of  sight  of 
the  city,  and  beyond  the  reach  of  sad  recollections 
—  and  the  two  ladies  could  fully  enjoy  the  beautiful 
country  through  which  the  road  wound  along. 

After  a  few  days'  travelling,  they  arrived,  one 
sunny  evening,  at  the  Castle  of  Ringstetten.  Its 
young  lord  had  much  business  with  his  steward  and 
laborers  to  occupy  him,  so  that  Undine  was  left 
alone  with  Bertalda.  They  took  a  walk  on  the  high 
ramparts  of  the  castle,  and  admired  the  rich  Swabian 
landscape,  which  lay  far  and  wide  around  them.  A 
tall  man  suddenly  came  up,  with  a  courteous  obei- 
sance ;  and  Bertalda  could  not  help  thinking  him 
very  like  the  ominous  man  of  the  fountain.  The 
likeness  struck  her  still  more,  when,  upon  an  impa- 
tient and  even  menacing  gesture  of  Undine's,  he 
went  aw^ay  with  the  same  hasty  step  and  shake  of  the 
head  as  before. 

"  Do  not  be  afraid,  dear  Bertalda,"  said  Undine; 
"  the  ugly  man  shall  not  harm  you  this  time."    After 


UNDINE.  75 

which  she  told  her  whole  history,  beginning  from 
her  birth,  and  how  they  had  been  exchanged  in  their 
earliest  childhood.  At  first  her  friend  looked  at  her 
with  serious  alarm ;  she  thought  that  Undine  was 
possessed  by  some  delirium.  But  she  became  con- 
vinced it  was  all  true,  as  she  listened  to  the  well-con- 
nected narrative,  which  accounted  so  well  for  the 
strange  events  of  the  last  months ;  besides  which, 
there  is  something  in  genuine  truth  which  finds  an 
answer  in  every  heart,  and  can  hardly  be  mistaken. 
She  was  bewildered,  when  she  found^  herself  one  of 
the  actors  in  a  living  fairy  tale,  and  as  wild  a  tale  as 
any  she  had  read.  She  gazed  upon  Undine  with 
reverence  ;  but  could  not  help  feeling  a  chill  thrown 
over  her  affection  for  her ;  and  that  evening  at  sup- 
per time,  she  wondered  at  the  Knight's  fond  love 
and  familiarity  toward  a  being,  whom  she  now 
looked  upon  as  rather  a  spirit  than  a  human  orea» 
ture. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

HOW  THEr    LIVED    IN  THE  CASTLE  OF    RINGSTETTEN. 

As  he  who  relates  this  tale  is  moved  to  the  heart 
by  it,  and  hopes  that  it  may  affect  his  readers  too,  he 
entreats  of  them  one  favor ;  namely,  that  they  will 
bear  with  him  while  he  passes  rapidly  over  a  long 
space  of  time  ;  and  be  content  if  he  barely  touches 
upon  what  happened  therein.  He  knows  well  that 
some  would  relate  in  great  detail,  step  by  step,  how 
Huldbrand's  heart  began  to  be  estranged  from  Un- 
dine, and  drawn  toward  Bertalda ;  while  she  cared 
not  to  disguise  from  him  her  ardent  love ;  and  how 
between  them  the  poor  injured  wife  came  to  be  rath- 
er feared  than  pitied,  —  and  when  he  showed  her 
kindness,  a  cold  shiver  would  often  creep  over  him, 
and  send  him  back  to  the  child  of  earth,  Bertal- 
da;—  all  this  the  author  knows,  might  be  dwelt 
upon ;  nay,  perhaps  it  ought  so  to  be.  But  his 
hearl  shrinks  from  such  a  task,  for  he  has  met  with 
such  passages  in  real  life,  and  cannot  even  abide 
their  shadows  in  his  memory.  Perhaps,  gentle  read- 
er, such  feelings  are  known  to  thee  also,  for  they  are 
the  conmion  lot  of  mortal  man.  Well  is  thee  if 
thou  hast  felt,  not  inflicted,  these  pangs ;  in  these 


UNDINE.  77 

cases  it  is  more  blessed  to  receive  than  to  give.  As 
Buch  recollections  wake  up  from  their  cells,  they  will 
but  cast  a  soft  shade  over  the  past ;  and  it  may  be 
the  thought  of  thy  withered  blossoms,  once  so 
fondly  loved,  brings  a  gentle  tear  down  thy  cheek. 
Enough  of  this :  we  will  not  go  on  to  pierce  our 
hearts  with  a  thousand  separate  arrows,  but  content 
ourselves  with  saying,  that  so  it  happened  in  the 
present  instance. 

Poor  Undine  drooped  day  by  day,  and  the  others 
were  neither  of  them  happy;  Bertalda  especially 
was  uneasy,  and  ready  to  suspect  the  injured  wife, 
whenever  she  fancied  herself  slighted  by  Huld- 
brand ;  meantime  she  had  gradually  assumed  the 
command  in  the  house,  and  the  deluded  Huldbrand 
supported  her  openly.  Undine  looked  on,  in  meek 
resignation.  To  increase  the  discomfort  of  their 
lives,  there  was  no  end  to  the  mysterious  sights  and 
sounds  that  haunted  Huldbrand  and  Bertalda  in  the 
vaulted  galleries  of  the  castle;  such  as  had  never 
been  heard  of  before.  The  long  white  man,  too  well 
known  to  him  as  Uncle  Kiihleborn,  and  to  her  as 
the  spirit  of  the  fountain,  often  showed  his  threaten- 
ing countenance  to  both ;  but  chiefly  to  Bertalda, 
who  had  more  than  once  been  made  ill  by  the  fright, 
and  thought  seriously  of  leaving  the  castle.  But 
her  love  for  Huldbrand  detained  her,  and  she  quiet- 
ed her  conscience  by  thinking,  that  it  had  never 
come  to  a  declaration  of  love  between  them ;  and, 
besides,  she  would  not  have  known  which  way  to 


78  UNDINE. 

turn.  After  receiving  the  Lord  of  Ringstetten*a 
message,  that  Bertalda  was  with  them,  the  old  Fish- 
erman had  traced  a  few  lines,  scarcely  legible,  from 
infirmity  and  long  disuse,  saying,  "  I  am  now  a  poor 
old  widower ;  for  my  dear  good  wife  is  dead.  But, 
lonely  as  I  am  by  my  fireside,  I  had  rather  Bertalda 
stayed  away  than  came  here.  Provided  she  does  not 
harm  my  dear  Undine!  My  curse  be  upon  her  if 
she  does."  Bertalda  scattered  these  last  words  to 
the  winds,  but  treasured  up  her  father's  command 
that  she  should  not  join  him  :  as  is  the  way  with  us 
selfish  beings. 

One  day,  when  Huldbrand  had  just  ridden  out, 
Undine  sent  for  her  servants  and  desired  them  to 
fetch  a  large  stone  and  carefully  to  stop  up  the 
mouth  of  the  magnificent  fountain,  which  played  in 
the  centre  of  the  court.  The  men  objected,  that 
they  must  then  always  go  down  the  valley  to  a 
great  distance  for  water.  Undine  smiled  mournfully. 
"  It  grieves  me  to  add  to  your  burdens,  my  good 
friends,"  said  she,  "  I  had  rather  go  and  fill  my 
pitcher  myself ;  but  this  fountain  must  be  sealed  up. 
Trust  me,  nothing  else  will  do,  and  it  is  our  only 
way  of  escaping  a  much  worse  evil." 

The  servants  rejoiced  at  any  opportunity  of 
pleasing  their  gentle  mistress  ;  not  a  word  more  was 
said,  and  they  lifted  the  huge  stone.  They  had 
raised  it,  and  were  about  to  let  it  down  on  the  mouth 
of  the  spring,  when  Bertalda  ran  up,  calHng  out  to 
them   to   stop :  the  water  of  this  fountain  was  the 


UNDINE.  79 

best  for  her  complexion,  and  she  never  would  con- 
sent to  its  being  stopped.  But  Undine,  instead  of 
yielding  as  usual,  kept  firmly,  though  gently,  to  her 
resolution  ;  she  said  that  it  behooved  her,  as  mistress 
of  the  house,  to  order  all  such  matters  as  appeared 
best  to  her,  and  none  but  her  lord  and  husband 
should  call  her  to  account.  "  Look,  oh  look  ! "  cried 
Bertalda,  eagerly  and  angrily,  "  how  the  poor  bright 
water  curls  and  writhes,  because  you  would  deprive 
it  of  every  gleam  of  sunshine,  and  of  the  cheerful 
faces  of  men,  whose  mirror  it  was  created  to  be ! " 
In  truth,  the  spring  did  writhe  and  bubble  up  won- 
derfully, just  as  if  some  one  were  trying  to  force  his 
way  through  ;  but  Undine  pressed  them  the  more  to 
dispatch  the  work.  Nor  was  there  much  need  to 
repeat  her  commands.  The  household  people  were 
too  glad  at  once  to  obey  their  gentle  lady,  and  to 
mortify  the  pride  of  Bertalda,  in  spite  of  whose 
threats  and  wrath,  the  stone  was  soon  firmly  fast- 
ened down  on  the  mouth  of  the  spring.  Undine 
bent  over  it  thoughtfully,  and  wrote  on  its  surface 
with  her  delicate  fingers.  Something  very  hard  and 
sharp  must  have  been  hidden  in  her  hand;  for 
when  she  walked  away,  and  the  others  came  up, 
they  found  all  manner  of  strange  characters  on  the 
stone,  none  of  which  were  there  before. 

When  the  Knight  came  home  that  evening,  Ber- 
talda received  him  with  tears  and  complaints  of 
Undine.  He  looked  sternly  at  his  poor  wife,  who 
mournfully  cast   down   her   eyes,   saying,  however, 


80  UNDINE. 

with  firmness,  "My  lord  and  husband  would  not 
chide  the  meanest  of  his  vassals,  without  giving  him 
a  hearing,  much  less  his  wedded  wife."  — "  Speak, 
then  ;  what  was  your  reason  for  this  strange  proceed- 
ing ? "  said  the  Knight  with  a  frown.  "  I  would 
rather  tell  it  you  quite  alone ! "  sighed  Undine. 
"  You  can  say  it  just  as  well  in  Bertalda's  presence," 
replied  he.  "  Yes,  if  thou  requirest  it,"  said  Undine, 
"  but  require  it  not."  She  looked  so  humble,  and  so 
submissive  in  her  touching  beauty,  that  the  Knight's 
heart  was  melted,  as  by  a  sunbeam  from  happier 
days.  He  took  her  affectionately  by  the  hand,  and 
led  her  to  his  own  room,  where  she  spoke  to  him  as 
follows. 

"You  know  that  wicked  Uncle  Kiihleborn,  my 
dearest  lord,  and  have  often  been  provoked  at  meet- 
ing him  about  the  castle.  Bertalda,  too,  has  been 
often  terrified  by  him.  No  wonder ;  he  is  soulless, 
shallow,  and  unthinking  as  a  mirror,  in  whom  no  feel- 
ing can  pierce  the  surface.  He  has  two  or  three 
times  seen  that  you  were  displeased  with  me,  that  I 
in  my  childishness  could  not  help  weeping,  and  that 
Bertalda  might  chance  to  laugh  at  the  same  mo- 
ment. And  upon  this  he  builds  all  manner  of  unjust 
suspicions,  and  interferes,  unasked,  in  our  concerns. 
"What  is  the  use  of  my  reproaching  him,  or  repuls- 
ing him  with  angry  words  ?  He  believes  nothing 
that  I  say.  A  poor  cold  life  is  his!  How  should 
he  know,  that  the  sorrows  and  the  joys  of  love  are 
60  sweetly  alike,  so  closely  linked,  that  it  is  not  in 


UNDINE.  81 

human  power  to  part  them.  When  a  tear  gushes 
out,  a  smile  lies  beneath  ;  and  a  smile  will  draw  the 
tears  from  their  secret  cells." 

She  smiled  through  her  tears  in  Huldbrand's  face, 
and  a  warm  ray  of  his  former  love  shot  through  his 
heart.  She  perceived  this,  pressed  closer  to  him, 
and  with  a  few  tears  of  joy  she  went  on. 

"  As  I  found  it  impossible  to  get  rid  of  our  tor- 
mentor by  words,  I  had  nothing  for  it,  but  to  shut 
the  door  against  him.  And  his  only  access  to  us 
was  that  fountain.  He  has  quarreled  with  the  other 
fountain  spirits  in  the  surrounding  valleys,  and  it  is 
much  lower  down  the  Danube,  below  the  junction 
of  some  of  his  friends  with  the  great  river,  that  his 
power  begins  again.  Therefore  I  stopped  the  mouth 
of  our  fountain,  and  inscribed  the  stone  with  charac- 
ters which  cripple  the  might  of  my  restless  uncle ; 
so  that  he  can  no  longer  cross  your  path,  or  mine,  or 
Bertalda's.  Men  can  indeed  lift  the  stone  off  as 
easily  as  ever;  the  inscription  has  no  power  over 
them.  So  you  are  free  to  comply  with  Bertalda's 
wish ;  but  indeed,  she  little  knows  what  she  asks. 
Against  her  the  wild  Ktihleborn  has  a  most  particu- 
lar spite,  and  if  some  of  his  forebodings  were  to 
come  true,  (as  they  might,  without  her  intending 
any  harm,)  O,  dearest,  even  thou  wert  not  free  from 
danger ! " 

Huldbrand  deeply  felt  the  generosity  of  his  noble- 
minded  wife,  in  so  zealously  shutting  out  her  for- 
midable protector,  even  when    reviled  by  Bertalda 


82  UNDINE. 

for  so  doing.  He  clasped  her  fondly  in  his  arms, 
and  said  with  much  emotion,  "  The  stone  shall  re- 
main ;  and  every  thing  shall  be  done  as  thou  wish- 
est,  now  and  hereafter,  my  sweetest  Undine." 

Scarce  could  she  trust  these  words  of  love,  after 
so  dreary  an  estrangement ;  she  returned  his  caresses 
with  joyful  but  timid  gratitude,  and  at  length  said, 
"  My  own  dear  love,  as  you  are  so  exceedingly  kind 
to  me  to-day,  may  I  ask  you  to  promise  one  thing  ? 
Herein  you  are  like  the  summer :  is  ho  not  most 
glorious  when  he  decks  his  brows  with  thunders, 
and  frowns  upon  us  from  his  throne  of  clouds  ?  So 
it  is  when  your  eyes  flash  lightning ;  it  becomes  you 
well,  although  in  my  weakness  I  may  often  shed  a 
tear  at  it.  Only,  —  if  you  would  promise  to  refrain 
from  it  wdien  we  are  sailing,  or  even  near  any  water. 
For  there,  you  see,  my  relations  have  a  right  to  con- 
trol me.  They  might  relentlessly  tear  me  from  you 
in  their  wrath,  fancying  that  there  is  an  insult  of- 
fered to  one  of  their  race ;  and  T  should  be  doomed 
to  spend  the  rest  of  my  life  in  the  crystal  palaces 
below,  without  ever  coming  to  you ;  or  if  they  did 
send  me  up  again,  —  oh  Heaven,  that  would  be  far 
worse  !  No,  no,  ray  best  beloved ;  you  will  not  let  it 
come  to  that,  if  you  love  your  poor  Undine." 

He  solemnly  promised  to  do  as  she  asked  him, 
and  they  returned  to  the  saloon,  quite  restored  to 
comfort  and  peace.  They  met  Bertalda,  followed  by 
a  few  laborers  whom  she  had  sent  for,  and  she  said 
Id  a  tone  of  bitterness  that  had  grown  common  with 


UNDINE.  8g 

her  of  late,  *  So,  now  your  private  consultation  is 
over,  and  we  may  have  the  stone  taken  up.  Make 
haste,  you  people,  and  do  it  for  me."  But  Huld- 
brand,  incensed  at  her  arrogance,  said  shortly  and 
decidedly,  "  The  stone  shall  not  be  touched,"  and  he 
then  reproved  Bertalda  for  her  rudeness  to  his  wife ; 
upon  which  the  laborers  walked  off,  exulting  se- 
cretly, while  Bertalda  hurried  away  to  her  chamber, 
pale  and  disturbed. 

The  hour  of  supper  came,  and  they  waited  in  vain 
for  Bertalda.  A  message  was  sent  to  her ;  the  ser- 
vants found  her  room  empty,  and  brought  back  only 
a  sealed  letter  directed  to  the  Knight.  He  opened 
it  with  trepidation  and  read,  "I  feel  with 'shame  that 
I  am  only  a  fisherman's  daughter.  Having  forgotten 
it  a  moment,  I  will  expiate  my  crime  in  the  wretched 
hut  of  my  parents.  Live  happy  with  your  beautiful 
wife ! " 

Undine  was  sincerely  grieved;  she  entreated 
Huldbrand  to  pursue  their  friend  at  once,  and  bring 
her  back  with  him.  Alas !  there  was  little  need  of 
entreaty.  His  passion  for  Bertalda  returned  with 
fresh  violence  ;  he  searched  the  castle  all  over,  ask- 
ing every  one  if  they  could  tell  him  in  what  direc- 
tion the  fair  one  had  fled.  He  could  discover  noth- 
ing ;  and  now  he  had  mounted  his  horse  in  the 
court,  and  stood  ready  to  set  forth,  and  try  the  route 
by  which  he  had  brought  Bertalda  to  the  castle. 
A  peasant  boy  just  then  came  up,  saying  that  he  had 
net  the  lady  riding  toward  the  Black  Valley.    Like 


84  UNDINE. 

a  shot  the  Knight  darted  through  the  gate,  and  took 
that  direction,  without  heeding  Undine's  anxious 
cries  from  a  window  :  "  To  the  Black  Valley  ?  oh, 
not  there !  Huldbrand,  not  there  !  Or  take  me  with 
you,  for  God's  sake  ! "  Finding  it  vain  to  cry,  she 
had  her  white  palfrey  saddled  in  all  haste,  and  gal- 
loped after  her  husband,  without  allowing  any  one 
to  attend  her. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


HOW    BERTALDA    DROVE     HOME    WITH    THE    KNIGHT, 


The  Black  Valley  lay  among  the  deepest  recesses 
of  the  mountains.  What  it  is  called  now  none  can 
tell.  In  those  times  it  bore  that  name  among  the 
countrymen,  on  account  of  the  deep  gloom  shed  over 
it  by  many  high  trees,  mostly  pines.  Even  the  brook 
which  gushed  down  between  the  cliffs  was  tinged 
with  black,  and  never  sparkled  like  the  merry 
streams  from  which  nothing  intercepts  the  blue  of 
heaven.  Now,  in  the  dusk  of  twilight,  it  looked 
darker  still  as  it  gurgled  between  the  rocks.  The 
Knight  spurred  his  horse  along  its  banks,  now  fear- 
ing to  lose  ground  in  his  pursuit,  and  now  again,  that 
he  might  overlook  the  fugitive  in  her  hiding-place,  if 
he  hurried  past  too  swiftly.  He  presently  found 
himself  far  advanced  in  the  valley,  and  hoped  he 
must  soon  overtake  her,  if  he  were  but  in  the  right 
track.  Then  again,  the  thought  that  it  might  be  a 
wrong  one  roused  the  keenest  anxiety  in  his  breast. 
Where  was  the  tender  Bertalda  to  lay  her  head,  if 
he  missed  her  in  this  bleak  stormy  night,  which  was 
setting  in,  black  and  awful,  upon  the  valley  ?  And 
now  he  saw  something  white  gleaming  through  the 


^Q  UNDINE. 

boughs,  on  the  slope  of  the  mountain ;  he  took  it  for 
Bertalda's  robe  and  made  for  it.  But  the  horse 
started  back,  and  reared  so  obstinately  that  Huld- 
brand,  impatient  of  delay,  and  having  already  found 
him  difficult  to  manage  amonsj  the  brambles  of  the 
thicket,  dismounted,  and  fastened  the  foaming  steed 
to  a  tree ;  he  then  felt  his  way  through  the  bushes 
on  foot.  The  boughs  splashed  his  head  and  cheeks 
roughly  with  cold  wet  dew;  far  off,  he  heard  the 
growl  of  thunder  beyond  the  mountains,  and  the 
whole  strange  scene  had  such  an  effect  upon  him, 
that  he  became  afraid  of  approaching  the  white  fig- 
ure, which  he  now  saw  lying  on  the  ground  at  a  short 
distance.  And  yet  he  could  distinguish  it  to  be  a 
woman,  dressed  in  long  white  garments  like  Bertal- 
da's, asleep  or  in  a  swoon.  He  came  close  to  her, 
made  the  boughs  rustle,  and  his  sword  ring,'  —  but 
she  stirred  not.  "  Bertalda  ! "  cried  he  ;  first  gently, 
then  louder  and  louder,  —  in  vain.  When  at  length 
he  shouted  the  beloved  name  with  the  whole 
strength  of  his  lungs,  a  faint  mocking  echo  returned 
it  from  the  cavities  of  the  rocks  —  "  Bertalda !  "  but 
the  sleeper  awoke  not.  He  bent  over  her  ;  but  the 
gloom  of  the  valley  and  the  shades  of  night  pre- 
vented his  discerning  her  features.  At  length, 
though  kept  back  by  some  boding  fears,  he  knelt 
down  by  her  on  the  earth,  and  just  then  a  flash  of 
lightning  lighted  up  the  valley.  He  saw  a  hideous 
distorted  face  close  to  his  own,  and  heard  a  hollow 
voice  say,  "  Give  me  a  kiss,  thou  sweet  shepherd ! " 


UNDINE.  87 

With  a  cry  of  horror  Huldbrand  started  up,  and  the 
monster  after  him.  "  Go  home  ! "  it  cried,  "  the  bad 
spirits  are  abroad  —  go  home  !  or  I  have  you  ! "  and 
its  long  white  arm  nearly  grasped  him.  "  Spiteful 
Kiihleborn,"  cried  the  Knight,  taking  courage, 
"  what  matters  it,  I  know  thee,  foul  spirit !  There  is 
a  kiss  for  thee  !  "  And  he  raised  his  sword  furiously 
against  the  figure.  But  it  dissolved,  and  a  drench- 
ing shower  made  it  sufficiently  clear  to  the  Knight 
what  enemy  he  had  encountered.  "  He  would  scare 
me  away  from  Bertalda,"  said  he  aloud  to  himself; 
"  he  thinks  he  can  subdue  me  by  his  absurd  tricks, 
and  make  me  leave  the  poor  terrified  maiden  in  his 
power,  that  he  may  wreak  his  vengeance  upon  her. 
But  that  he  never  shall  —  wretched  goblin !  What 
power  lies  in  a  human  breast  when  steeled  by  firm 
resolve,  the  contemptible  juggler  has  yet  to  learn." 
And  he  felt  the  truth  of  his  own  words,  and  seemed 
to  have  nerved  himself  afresh  by  them.  He  thought, 
too,  that  fortune  now  began  to  aid  him,  for  before  he 
had  got  back  to  his  horse  again,  he  distinctly  heard 
the  piteous  voice  of  Bertalda  as  if  near  at  hand, 
borne  toward  him  on  the  winds  as  their  howling 
mingled  with  the  thunder.  Eagerly  did  he  push  on 
in  that  direction,  and  he  found  the  trembling  damsel, 
who  was  just  attempting  to  climb  the  mountain's 
side,  in  order,  at  any  risk,  to  get  out  of  these  awful 
shades. 

He  met  her  affectionately,  and  however  proudly 
fihe  might  before  have  determined  to  hold  out,  she 


88  UNDINE. 

could  not  but  rejoice  at  being  rescued  by  her  much- 
loved  Huldbrand  from  the  fearful  solitude,  and 
warmly  invited  to  return  to  his  cheerful  home  in  the 
castle.  She  accompanied  him  with  scarcely  a  word 
of  reluctance,  but  was  so  exhausted,  that  the  Knight 
felt  much  relieved  when  they  had  reached  the  horse 
in  safety  ;  he  hastened  to  loose  him,  and  would  have 
placed  his  tender  charge  upon  him,  and  walked  by 
her  side  to  guide  her  carefully  through  the  danger- 
ous shades.  But  KiJhleborn's  mad  pranks  had 
driven  the  horse  quite  wild.  Hardly  could  the 
Knight  himself  have  sprung  upon  the  terrified  plung- 
ing creature's  back :  to  place  the  trembling  Bertalda 
upon  him  was  quite  impossible ;  so  they  made  up 
their  minds  to  walk  home.  With  his  horse's  bridle 
over  one  arm,  Huldbrand  supported  his  half-fainting 
companion  on  the  other.  Bertalda  mustered  what 
strength  she  could,  in  order  the  sooner  to  get  be- 
yond this  dreaded  valley,  but  fatigue  weighed  her 
down  like  lead,  and  every  limb  shook  under  her; 
partly  from  the  recollection  of  all  she  had  already 
suffered  from  KiJhleborn's  spite,  and  partly  from  ter- 
ror at  the  continued  crashing  of  the  tempest  through 
the  mountain  forests. 

At  length  she  slid  down  from  her  protector's  arm, 
and  sinking  on  the  moss,  she  said :  "  Leave  me  to 
die  here,  noble  Huldbrand ;  I  reap  the  punishment 
of  my  folly,  and  must  sink  under  this  load  of  fatigue 
and  anguish." — "Never,  my  precious  friend,  never 
will  I  forsake  you,"  cried  Huldbrand,  vainly  striving 


UNDINE.  89 

to  curb  his  raging  steed,  who  was  now  beginning  to 
start  and  plunge  worse  than  ever :  the  Knight  con- 
trived to  keep  him  at  some  distance  from  the  ex- 
Iiausted  maiden,  so  as  to  save  her  the  terror  of  see- 
ing him  near  her.  But  no  sooner  had  he  withdrawn 
himself  and  the  wild  animal  a  few  steps,  than  she 
began  to  call  him  back  in  the  most  piteous  manner, 
thinking  he  was  indeed  going  to  desert  her  in  this 
horrible  wilderness.  He  was  quite  at  a  loss  what  to 
do :  gladly  would  he  have  let  the  horse  gallop  away 
in  the  darkness  and  expend  his  wild  fury,  but  that 
he  feared  he  might  rush  down  upon  the  very  spot 
where  Bertalda  lay. 

In  this  extremity  of  distress,  it  gave  him  unspeak- 
able comfort  to  descry  a  wagon  slowly  descending 
the  stony  road  behind  him.  He  called  out  for  help  : 
a  man's  voice  replied  telling  him  to  have  patience, 
but  promising  to  come  to  his  aid;  soon  two  white 
horses  became  visible  through  the  thicket,  and  next 
the  white  smock-frock  of  the  wagoner,  and  a  large 
sheet  of  white  linen  that  covered  his  goods  inside. 
"  Ho,  stop ! "  cried  the  man,  and  the  obedient  horses 
stood  still.  "  I  see  well  enough,"  said  he,  "  what  ails 
the  beast.  When  first  I  came  through  these  parts 
my  horses  were  just  as  troublesome  ;  because  there 
is  a  wicked  water-sprite  living  hard  by,  who  takes 
delight  in  making  them  play  tricks.  But  I  know  a 
?harm  for  this ;  if  you  will  give  me  leave  to  whisper 
it  in  your  horse's  ear,  you  will  see  him  as  quiet  as 
mine  yonder  in  a  moment."  —  "  Try  your  charm,  if 


00  UNDINE. 

it  will  do  any  good ! "  said  the  impatient  Knight. 
The  driver  pulled  the  unruly  horse's  head  toward 
him,  and  whispered  a  couple  of  words  in  his  ear. 
At  once  the  animal  stood  still,  tamed  and  pacified, 
and  showed  no  remains  of  his  former  fury  but  by 
panting  and  snorting,  as  if  he  still  chafed  inwardly. 
This  was  no  time  for  Huldbrand  to  inquire  how  it 
had  been  done.  He  agreed  with  the  wagoner  that 
Bertalda  should  be  taken  into  the  wagon,  which  by 
his  account  was  loaded  with  bales  of  soft  cotton,  and 
conveyed  to  the  Castle  of  Ringstetten,  while  the 
Knight  followed  on  horseback.  But  his  horse 
seemed  too  much  spent  by  his  former  violence  to  be 
able  to  carry  his  master  so  far,  and  the  man  per- 
suaded Huldbrand  to  get  into  the  wagon  with  Ber- 
talda. The  horse  was  to  be  fastened  behind.  "  We 
shall  go  down  hill,"  said  the  man,  "  and  that  is  light 
work  for  my  horses."  The  Knight  placed  himself 
by  Bertalda,  his  horse  quietly  followed  them,  and 
the  driver  walked  by  steadily  and  carefully. 

In  the  deep  stillness  of  night,  while  the  storm 
growled  more  and  more  distant,  and  in  the  con- 
sciousness of  safety  and  easy  progress,  Huldbrand 
and  Bertalda  insensibly  got  into  confidential  dis- 
course. He  tenderly  reproached  her  for  having  so 
hastily  fled ;  she  excused  herself  with  bashful  emo- 
tion, and  through  all  she  said  it  appeared  most 
clearly  that  her  heart  was  all  his  own.  Huldbrand 
was  too  much  engrossed  by  the  expression  of  her 
words  to  attend  to  their  apparent  meaning,  and  he 


UNDINE.  91 

only  replied  to  tne  former.  Upon  this,  the  wagoner 
cried  out  in  a  voice  that  rent  the  air,  "  Now  my 
horses,  up  with  you ;  show  us  what  you  are  made  of, 
my  fine  fellows !  "  The  Knight  put  out  his  head  and 
saw  the  horses  treading  or  rather  swimming  through 
the  foaming  waters,  while  the  wheels  whirled  loudly 
and  rapidly  like  those  of  a  water-mill,  and  the  wag- 
oner was  standing  upon  the  top  of  his  wagon, 
overlooking  the  floods.  "  Why,  what  road  is  this  ? 
It  will  take  us  into  the  middle  of  the  stream,"  cried 
Huldbrand.  "No,  sir,"  cried  the  driver  laughing; 
"  it  is  just  the  other  way.  The  stream  is  come  into 
the  middle  of  the  road.  Look  round,  and  see  how 
it  is  all  flooded." 

In  fact,  the  whole  valley  was  now  heaving  with 
waves,  that  had  swollen  rapidly  to  a  great  height. 
"  This  must  be  Kuhleborn,  the  wicked  sprite,  trying 
to  drown  us ! "  cried  the  Knight.  "  Have  you  no 
charm  to  keep  him  off,  friend ? "  —  "I  do  know  of 
one,"  said  the  driver, "  but  I  can't  and  won't  make  use 
of  it,  till  you  know  who  I  am."  —  "  Is  this  a  time  for 
riddles  ?  "  shouted  the  Knight ;  "  the  flood  is  rising 
every  moment,  and  what  care  I  to  know  who  you 
are  ?  "  —  "  It  rather  concerns  you,  however,  to  know." 
said  the  driver,  "  for  I  am  Kuhleborn."  And  he 
grinned  hideously  into  the  wagon  —  which  was  now 
a  wagon  no  longer,  nor  were  the  horses  horses  ;  but 
all  dissolved  into  foaming  waves  ;  the  wagoner  him- 
self shot  up  into  a  giant  waterspout,  bore  down  the 
struggling  horse  into  the  flood,  and,  towering  over 


92  UNDINE. 

the  heads  of  the  hapless  pair,  till  he  had  swelled 
into  a  watery  mountain,  he  would  have  swallowed 
them  up  the  next  moment. 

But  now  the  sweet  voice  of  Undine  was  heard 
above  the  wild  uproar ;  the  moon  shone  out  between 
the  clouds,  and  at  the  same  instant  Undine  came 
into  sight,  upon  the  high  grounds  above  them.  She 
addressed  Kiihleborn  in  a  commanding  tone,  the 
huge  wave  laid  itself  down,  muttering  and  murmur- 
ing ;  the  waters  rippled  gently  away  in  the  moon's 
soft  light,  and  Undine  alighted  like  a  white  dove 
from  her  airy  height,  and  led  them  to  a  soft  green 
spot  on  the  hill-side,  where  she  refreshed  their  jaded 
spirits  with  choice  food.  She  then  helped  Bertalda 
to  mount  her  own  white  palfrey,  and  at  length  they 
all  three  reached  th«  Castle  of  Ringstetten  in  safety. 


CHAPTER   XV. 


THE    TRIP    TO    VIENNA. 


For  some  time  after  this  adventure  they  led  a 
quiet  and  peaceful  life  in  the  castle.  The  Knight 
was  deeply  touched  by  his  wife's  angelic  goodness, 
so  signally  displayed  by  her  pursuing  and  saving 
them  in  the  Black  Valley,  where  their  lives  were 
threatened  by  Kiihleborn.  Undine  herself  was  hap- 
py in  the  peace  of  an  approving  conscience ;  besides 
that,  many  a  gleam  of  hope  now  brightened  her 
path,  as  her  husband's  love  and  confidence  seemed 
to  revive ;  Bertalda  meanwhile  was  grateful,  modest, 
and  timid,  without  claiming  any  merit  for  being  so. 
If  either  of  her  companions  alluded  to  the  sealing 
up  of  the  fountain,  or  the  adventures  in  the  Black 
Valley,  she  would  implore  them  to  spare  her  on 
those  subjects,  because  she  could  not  think  of  the 
fountain  without  a  blush,  nor  the  valley  without  a 
shudder.  She  was  therefore  told  nothing  further ; 
indeed,  what  would  have  been  the  use  of  enlighten- 
ing her  ?  Nothing  could  add  to  the  peace  and  hap- 
piness which  had  taken  up  their  abode  in  the  Castle 
of  Ringstetten  ;  they  enjoyed  the  present  in  full  se- 


94  UNDINE. 

ciirity,  and  the  future  lay  before  them,  all  blooming 
with  fair  fruits  and  flowers. 

The  winter  had  gone  by  without  any  interruption 
to  their  social  comfort;  and  spring,  with  her  young 
green  shoots  and  bright  blue  skies,  began  to  smile 
upon  men  ;  their  hearts  felt  light,  like  the  young 
season,  and  from  its  returning  birds  of  passage,  they 
caught  a  fancy  to  travel.  One  day,  as  they  were 
walking  together  near  the  sources  of  the  Danube, 
Huldbrand  fell  into  talk  about  the  glories  of  that 
noble  river,  how  proudly  he  flowed  on,  through  fruit- 
ful lands,  to  the  spot  where  the  majestic  city  of 
Vienna  crowned  his  banks,  and  how  every  mile  of 
his  course  was  marked  by  fresh  grandeur  and  beauty 
"  How  delightful  it  would  be  to  follow  his  course 
down  to  Vienna !  "  cried  Bertalda ;  but  instantly 
relapsing  into  her  timid,  chastened  manner,  she 
blushed  and  was  silent.  This  touched  Undine,  and 
in  her  eagerness  to  give  her  friend  pleasure,  she 
said:  "  And  why  should  we  not  take  the  trip?" 
Bertalda  jumped  for  joy,  and  their  fancy  began  to 
paint  this  pleasant  recreation  in  the  brightest  colors. 
Huldbrand  encouraged  them  cheerfully,  but  whis- 
pered once  to  Undine :  "  But,  should  not  we  get 
within  Kuhleborn's  power  again,  down  there  ? "  — 
"  Let  him  come,"  said  she,  laughing ;  "  I  shall  be  with 
you,  and  in  my  presence  he  durst  not  attempt  any 
mischief." 

So  the  only  possible  objection  seemed  removed, 
and  they  prepared  for  departure,  and  were  soon  sail- 


UNDINE.  96 

ing  along,  full  of  spirit  and  of  gay  hopes.  But,  O 
Man  !  it  is  not  for  thee  to  wonder  when  the  course 
of  events  differs  widely  from  the  paintings  of  thy 
fancy.  The  treacherous  foe,  that  lures  us  to  our 
ruin,  lulls  his  victim  to  rest  with  sweet  music  and 
golden  dreams.  Our  guardian  angel,  on  the  con- 
trary, will  often  rouse  us  by  a  sharp  and  awakening 
blow. 

The  first  days  they  spent  on  the  Danube  were 
days  of  extraordinary  enjoyment.  The  further  they 
floated  down  the  proud  stream  the  nobler  and  fairer 
grew  the  prospect.  But,  just  as  they  had  reached  a 
most  lovely  district,  the  first  sight  of  which  had 
promised  them  great  delight,  the  unruly  Kiihleborn 
began  openly  to  give  signs  of  his  presence  and  pow- 
er. At  first  they  were  only  sportive  tricks,  because, 
whenever  he  ruffled  the  stream  and  raised  the  wind, 
Undine  repressed  him  by  a  word  or  two,  and  made 
him  subside  at  once ;  but  his  attempts  soon  began 
again,  and  again  Undine  was  obliged  to  warn  him 
off;  so  that  the  pleasure  of  the  little  party  was  griev- 
ously disturbed.  To  make  things  worse,  the  water- 
men would  mutter  many  a  dark  surmise  into  each 
other's  ears,  and  cast  strange  looks  at  the  three 
gentlefolks,  whose  very  servants  began  to  feel  sus- 
picion, and  to  show  distrust  of  their  lord.  Huld- 
brand  said  to  himself  more  than  once,  "  This  comes 
of  uniting  with  other  than  one's  like  :  a  son  of  earth 
may  not  marry  a  wondrous  maid  of  ocean."  To 
justify  himself  (as  we  all  love  to  do)  he  would  add, 


96  UNDINE. 

"  But  I  did  not  know  she  was  a  maid  of  ocean.  If 
I  am  to  be  pursued  and  fettered  wherever  I  go  by 
the  mad  freaks  of  her  relations,  mine  is  the  misfor- 
tune, not  the  fault."  Such  reflections  somewhat 
checked  his  self-reproaches ;  but  they  made  him 
the  more  disposed  to  accuse,  nay,  even  to  hate  Un- 
dine. Already  he  began  to  scowl  upon  her,  and  the 
poor  wife  understood  but  too  well  his  meaning. 
Exhausted  by  this,  and  by  her  constant  exertions 
against  Kiihleborn,  she  sank  back  one  evening  in 
the  boat,  and  was  lulled  by  its  gentle  motion  into  a 
deep  sleep. 

But  no  sooner  were  her  eyes  closed,  than  every 
one  in  the  boat  thought  he  saw,  just  opposite  his 
own  eyes,  a  terrific  human  head  rising  above  the 
water ;  not  like  the  head  of  a  swimmer,  but  planted 
upright  on  the  surface  of  the  river,  and  keeping 
pace  with  the  boat.  Each  turned  to  his  neighbor  to 
show  him  the  cause  of  his  terror,  and  found  him 
looking  equally  frightened,  but  pointing  in  a  differ- 
ent direction,  where  the  half-laughing,  half-scowl- 
ing goblin  met  his  eyes.  When  at  length  they  tried 
to  explain  the  matter  to  each  other,  crying  out, 
"  Look  there ;  no,  there ! "  each  of  them  suddenly 
perceived  the  other's  phantom,  and  the  water  round 
the  boat  appeared  all  alive  with  ghastly  monsters. 
The  cry  which  burst  from  every  mouth  awakened 
Undine.  Before  the  light  of  her  beaming  eyes  the 
the  horde  of  misshapen  faces  vanished.  But  Huld- 
brand  was  quite  exasperated  by  these  fiendish  tricks, 


UNDINE.  97 

and  would  have  burst  into  loud  imprecations,  had 
not  Undine  whispered  in  the  most  beseeching  man- 
ner, "  For  God's  sake,  my  own  lord,  be  patient  now ! 
remember  we  are  on  the  water."  The  Knight  kept 
down  his  anger,  and  soon  sank  into  thought.  Pres- 
ently Undine  whispered  to  him :  "  My  love,  had  not 
we  better  give  up  the  foolish  journey,  and  go  home 
to  Ringstetten  in  comfort  ?  "  But  Huldbrand  mut- 
tered angrily,  "  Then  I  am  to  be  kept  a  prisoner  in 
my  own  castle  ?  and  even  there  I  may  not  breathe 
freely  unless  the  fountain  is  sealed  up  ?  Would  to 
Heaven  the  absurd  connection  "  —  But  Undine 
pressed  her  soft  hand  gently  upon  his  lips.  And  he 
held  his  peace,  and  mused  upon  all  she  had  pre- 
viously told  him. 

In  the  mean  time,  Bertalda  had  yielded  herself 
up  to  many  and  strange  reflections.  She  knew  some- 
thing of  Undine's  origin,  but  not  all!  and  Kuhle- 
born  in  particular  was  only  a  fearful  but  vague  im- 
age in  her  mind  ;  she  had  not  even  once  heard  his 
name.  And  as  she  pondered  these  wonderful  sub- 
jects, she  half  unconsciously  took  off  a  golden 
necklace  which  Huldbrand  had  bought  for  her  of  a 
travelling  jeweller  a  few  days  before ;  she  held  it 
close  to  the  surface  of  the  river  playing  with  it,  and 
dreamily  watching  the  golden  gleam  that  it  shed  on 
the  glassy  water.  Suddenly  a  large  hand  came  up 
out  of  the  Danube,  snatched  the  necklace,  and 
ducked  under  with  it.  Bertalda  screamed  aloud, 
and  was  answered  by  a   laugh   of  scorn    from    the 

7 


98  UNDINE. 

depths  below.  And  now  the  Knight  could  coutsun 
himself  no  longer.  Starting  up,  he  gave  a  loose  to 
his  fury,  loading  with  imprecations  those  who  chose 
to  break  into  his  family  and  private  life,  and  chal- 
lenging them  —  were  they  goblins  or  sirens  —  to 
meet  his  good  sword.  Bertalda  continued  to  weep 
over  the  loss  of  her  beloved  jewel,  and  her  tears 
were  as  oil  to  the  flames  of  his  wrath ;  while  Undine 
kept  her  hand  dipped  into  the  water,  with  a  ceaseless 
low  murmur,  only  once  or  twice  interrupting  her 
mysterious  whispers,  to  say  to  her  husband  in  tones 
of  entreaty,  "  Dearest  love,  speak  not  roughly  to  me 
here ;  say  whatever  you  will,  only  spare  me  here ; 
you  know  why ! "  and  he  still  restrained  his  tongue 
(which  stammered  with  passion)  from  saying  a  word 
directly  against  her.  She  soon  drew  her  hand  from 
under  the  water,  bringing  up  a  beautiful  coral  neck- 
lace whose  glitter  dazzled  them  all.  "  Take  it,"  said 
she,  offering  it  kindly  to  Bertalda  :  "  I  have  sent  for 
this,  instead  of  the  one  you  lost ;  do  not  grieve  any 
more,  my  poor  child.*'  But  Huldbrand  darted  for- 
ward, snatched  the  shining  gift  from  Undine's  hand, 
hurled  it  again  into  the  water,  and  roared  furiously, 
"  So  you  still  have  intercourse  with  them  ?  In  the 
name  of  sorcery,  go  back  to  them  with  all  your  bau- 
bles, and  leave  us  men  in  peace,  witch  as  you  are  !  " 
With  eyes  aghast,  yet  streaming  with  tears,  poor 
Undine  gazed  at  him,  still  holding  out  the  hand 
which  had  so  lovingly  presented  to  Bertalda  the 
bright  jewel.     Then  she  wept  more  and  more,  like 


UNDINE.  99 

a  sorely  injured,  innocent  child.  And  «t  length  she 
said  faintly,  "  Farewell,  my  dearest ;  farewell !  They 
shall  not  lay  a  finger  on  thee ;  only  be  true  to  me, 
that  I  may  still  guard  thee  from  them.  But  I,  alas  ! 
I  must  be  gone  ;  all  this  bright  morning  of  life  is 
over.  Woe,  woe  is  me  !  what  hast  thou  done  ?  woe, 
woe !  "  And  she  slipped  out  of  the  boat  and  passed 
away.  "Whether  she  went  down  into  the  river,  or 
flowed  away  with  it,  none  could  tell ;  it  was  like  both 
and  yet  like  neither.  She  soon  mingled  with  the 
waters  of  the  Danube,  and  nothing  was  to  be  heard 
but  the  sobbing  whispers  of  the  stream  as  it  washed 
against  the  boat,  seeming  to  say  distinctly,  "  Woe, 
woe  !    Oh  be  true  to  me  !  woe,  woe  !  " 

Huldbrand  lay  flat  in  the  boat,  drowned  in  tears, 
till  a  deep  swoon  came  to  tha  unhappy  man's  reUef; 
and  steeped  him  in  oblivion. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

OF    WHAT  BEFELL  HULDBRAND    AFTERWARDS. 

Shall  we  say,  Alas,  or  thank  God,  that  our  grief 
IS  so  often  transient  ?  I  speak  of  such  grief  as  has 
its  source  in  the  well-springs  of  life  itself,  and  seems 
so  identified  with  our  lost  friend,  as  almost  to  fill 
up  the  void  he  has  left;  and  his  hallowed  image 
seems  fixed  within  the  sanctuary  of  our  soul,  until 
the  signal  of  our  release  comes,  and  sets  us  free  to 
join  him  !  In  truth,  a  good  man  will  not  sufter  this 
sanctuary  to  be  disturbed  ;  yet  even  with  him,  it  is 
not  the  first,  the  all  engrossing  sorrow  which  abides. 
New  objects  will  intermingle,  and  we  are  compelled 
to  draw  from  our  grief  itself  a  fresh  proof  of  the 
perishableness  of  earthly  things :  alas,  then,  that  our 
grief  is  transient ! 

So  it  was  with  the  Lord  of  Ringstetten  ;  whether 
for  his  weal  or  woe,  the  sequel  of  this  story  will 
show  us.  At  first,  he  could  do  nothing  but  weep 
abundantly,  as  his  poor  kind  Undine  had  wept  when 
he  snatched  from  her  the  beautiful  gift,  which  she 
thought  would  have  comforted  and  pleased  them  so 
much.  He  would  then  stretch  out  his  hand  as  she 
had  done,  and  burst  into  tears  afresh,  like  her.     He 


UNDINE.  101 

secretly  hoped  that  he  might  end  by  altogether  dis- 
solving in  tears:  and  are  there  not  many,  whose 
minds  have  been  visited  by  the  same  painfully  pleas- 
ing thought,  at  some  season  of  great  sorrow  ?  Ber- 
talda  wept  with  him,  and  they  lived  quietly  together 
at  Ringstetten  a  long  while,  cherishing  the  memory 
of  Undine,  and  seeming  to  have  forgotten  their  own 
previous  attachment.  Moreover,  the  gentle  Undine 
often  appeared  to  Hulbrand  in  his  dreams ;  she 
would  caress  him  meekly  and  fondly,  and  depart 
again  with  tearful  resignation,  so  that  when  he 
awoke,  he  doubted  whose  tears  they  were  that  be- 
dewed his  face  —  were  they  her's,  or  only  his  own  ? 

But  as  time  went  on  these  visions  became  less 
frequent,  and  the  Knight's  grief  milder;  still  he 
might  perhaps  have  spent  the  rest  of  his  days  con- 
tentedly, devoting  himself  to  the  memory  of  Undine, 
and  keeping  it  alive  by  talking  of  her,  had  not  the 
old  Fisherman  unexpectedly  made  his  appearance, 
and  laid  his  serious  commands  upon  Bertalda,  his 
daughter,  to  return  home  with  him.  The  news  of 
Undine's  disappearance  had  reached  him,  and  he 
would  no  longer  suffer  Bertalda  to  remain  in  the 
castle  alone  with  its  lord.  "  I  do  not  ask  whether 
my  daughter  cares  for  me  or  not,"  said  he;  "her 
character  is  at  stake,  and  where  that  is  the  case, 
nothing  else  is  worth  considering." 

This  summons  from  the  old  man,  and  the  pros- 
pect of  utter  loneliness  amid  the  halls  and  long  gal- 
leries of  the  castle  after  Bertalda's  departure,  revived 


102  UNDINE. 

in  Huldbrand's  heart  the  feeling  that  had  lain  dor- 
mant, and  as  it  were  buried  under  his  mourning  for 
Undine,  namely,  his  love  for  the  fair  Bertalda.  The 
Fisherman  had  many  objections  to  their  marriage ; 
Undine  had  been  very  dear  to  the  old  man,  and  he 
thought  it  hardly  certain  yet  that  his  lost  darling  was 
really  dead.  But,  if  her  corpse  were  indeed  lying 
stiff  and  cold  in  the  bed  of  the  Danube,  or  floating 
down  its  stream  to  the  distant  ocean,  then  Bertalda 
ought  to  reproach  herself  for  her  death,  and  it  ill 
became  her  to  take  the  place  of  her  poor  victim. 
However,  the  Fisherman  was  very  fond  of  Huldbrand 
also ;  the  entreaties  of  his  daughter,  who  was  now 
grown  much  more  gentle  and  submissive,  had  their 
effect,  and  it  seems  that  he  did  yield  his  consent  at 
last ;  for  he  remained  peaceably  at  the  castle,  and  an 
express  was  sent  for  Father  Heilmann,  who  in  ear- 
lier, happier  days  had  blessed  Undine's  and  Huld- 
brand's union,  that  he  might  officiate  at  the  Knight's 
second  marriage. 

No  sooner  had  the  holy  man  read  the  Lord  of 
Ringstetten's  letter  than  he  set  forth  on  his  way 
thither,  with  far  greater  speed  than  the  messenger 
had  used  to  reach  him.  If  his  straining  haste  took 
away  his  breath,  or  he  felt  his  aged  limbs  ache  with 
fatigue,  he  would  say  to  himself:  "  I  may  be  in  time 
to  prevent  a  wicked  deed ;  sink  not  till  thou  hast 
reached  the  goal,  my  withered  frame !  "  And  so  he 
exerted  himself  afresh,  and  pushed  on,  without  flag- 
ging or  halting,  till  late  one  evening  he  entered  the 
shady  court  of  Ringstetten. 


CNDINE.  103 

The  lovers  were  sitting  hand  in  hand  under  a  tree-, 
with  the  thoughtful  old  man  near  them ;  as  soon  as 
they  saw  Father  Heilmann,  they  rose  eagerly  and 
advanced  to  meet  him.  But  he,  scarcely  noticing 
their  civilities,  begged  the  Knight  to  come  with  bim 
into  the  castle.  As  he  stared  at  this  request,  and 
hesitated  to  comply,  the  pious  old  Priest  said : 
"  Why,  indeed,  should  I  speak  to  you  alone,  my 
Lord  of  Ringstetten  ?  What  I  have  to  say  equally 
concerns  the  Fisherman  and  Bertalda ;  and  as  they 
must  sooner  or  later  know  it,  It  had  better  be  said 
now.  How  can  you  be  certain,  Lord  Huldbrand, 
that  your  own  wife  is  indeed  dead  ?  For  myself,  I 
can  hardly  think  so.  I  will  not  venture  to  speak  of 
things  relating  to  her  wondrous  nature ;  in  truth,  I 
have  no  clear  knowledge  about  it.  But  a  godly  and 
faithful  wife  she  proved  herself,  beyond  all  about. 
And  these  fourteen  nights  has  she  come  to  my  bed- 
side in  dreams,  wringing  her  poor  hands  in  anguish, 
and  sighing  out,  "  Oh  stop  him,  dear  father !  I  am 
yet  alive  !  Oh  save  his  life !  Oh  save  his  soul !  "  I 
understood  not  the  meaning  of  the  vision  till  your 
messenger  came ;  and  I  have  now  hastened  hither, 
not  to  join  but  to  part  those  hands,  which  may  not 
be  united  in  holy  wedlock.  Part  from  her,  Huld- 
brand! Part  from  him,  Bertalda!  He  belongs  to 
another ;  see  you  not  how  his  cheek  turns  pale  at 
the  thought  of  his  departed  wife  ?  Those  are  not 
•,he  looks  of  a  bridegroom,  and  the  spirit  tells  ma 
this.     If  thou  leavest  him  not  now,  there  is  joy  for 


104  UNDINE. 

thee  no  more."  They  all  three  felt  at  the  bottom  of 
their  hearts  that  Father  Heilraann's  words  were  true ; 
but  they  would  not  yield  to  them.  Even  the  old 
Fisherman  was  so  blinded,  as  to  think  that  what  had 
been  settled  between  them  for  so  many  days,  could 
not  now  be  relinquished.  So  they  resisted  the 
Priest's  warnings,  and  urged  the  fulfillment  of  their 
wishes  with  headlong,  gloomy  determination,  till 
Father  Heilraann  departed  with  a  melancholy  shake 
of  the  head,  without  accepting  even  for  one  night 
their  proffered  hospitalities,  or  tasting  any  of  the 
refreshments  they  set  before  him.  But  Huldbrand 
persuaded  himself  that  the  old  Priest  was  a  weak 
dotard ;  and  early  next  morning  he  sent  to  a  monk 
from  the  nearest  cloister,  who  readily  promised  to 
come  and  marry  them  in  a  few  days. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

THE    knight's    dream. 

The  morning  twilight  was  beginning  to  dawn,  and 
the  Knight  lay  half-awake  on  his  couch.  When- 
ever he  dropped  asleep  he  was  scared  by  mysterious 
terrors,  and  started  up  as  if  sleep  were  peopled  by 
phantoms.  If  he  woke  up  in  earnest,  he  felt  himself 
fanned  all  around  by  what  seemed  like  swans*  wings, 
and  soothed  by  watery  airs,  which  lulled  him  back 
again  into  the  half-unconscious,  twilight  state.  At 
length  he  did  fall  asleep  and  fancied  himself  lifted 
by  swans  on  their  soft  wings,  and  carried  far  away 
over  lands  and  seas,  all  to  the  sound  of  their  sweet- 
est melody.  "  Swans  singing !  swans  singing  ! " 
thought  he  continually;  is  not  that  the  strain  of 
Death?"  Presently  he  found  himself  hovering 
above  a  vast  sea.  A  swan  warbled  in  his  ear  that  it 
was  the  Mediterranean  ;  and  as  he  looked  down  into 
the  deep  it  became  like  clear  crystal,  transparent  to 
the  bottom.  This  rejoiced  him  much,  for  he  could 
see  Undine  sitting  in  a  brilliant  hall  of  crystal. 

She  was  shedding  tears,  indeed,  and  looked  sadly 
changed  since  the  happy  times  which  they  had  spent 
together  at  Ringstetten  ;  happiest  at  first,  but  happy 


106  UNDINE. 

also  a  short  time  since,  just  before  the  fatal  sail  on 
the  Danube.  The  contrast  struck  Huldbrand  deep- 
ly ;  but  Undine  did  not  seem  to  be  aware  of  his 
presence.  KUhleborn  soon  came  up  to  her,  and  be- 
gan rating  her  for  weeping.  She  composed  herself, 
and  looked  at  him  with  a  firmness  and  dignity,  be- 
fore which  he  almost  quailed.  "  Though  I  am  con- 
demned to  live  under  these  deep  waters,"  said  she, 
"  I  have  brought  my  soul  with  me ;  therefore  my 
tears  cannot  be  understood  by  thee.  But  to  me 
they  are  blessings,  like  every  thing  that  belongs  to  a 
loving  soul."  He  shook  his  head  incredulously,  and 
said,  after  a  pause :  "  Nevertheless,  niece,  you  are 
still  subject  to  the  laws  of  our  element;  and  you 
know  you  must  execute  sentence  of  death  upon  him 
as  soon  as  he  marries  again,  and  breaks  faith  with 
you."  —  "  To  this  hour  he  is  a  widower,"  said  Undine, 
"  and  loves  and  mourns  me  truly."  —  "  Ah,  but  he 
will  be  a  bridegroom  soon,"  said  Kiihleborn  with  a 
sneer ;  "  wait  a  couple  of  days  only,  and  the  marriage 
blessing  will  have  been  given,  and  you  must  go  up 
and  put  the  criminal  to  death."  —  "I  cannot ! "  an- 
swered the  smiling  Undine.  "  I  have  had  the  foun- 
tain sealed  up,  against  myself  and  my  whole  race." 
"  But  suppose  he  leaves  his  castle,"  said  Kiihleborn, 
"  or  forgets  himself  so  far  as  to  let  them  set  the  foun- 
tain '  free ; '  for  he  thinks  mighty  little  of  those  mat- 
ters." —  "  And  that  is  why,"  said  Undine,  still  smiling 
through  her  tears,  "  that  is  why  his  spirit  hovers  at 
this  moment  over  the  Mediterranean,  and  listens  to 


UNDINE.  107 

Dur  conversation  as  in  a  dream.  I  hav^e  contrived  it 
on  purpose,  that  he  may  take  warning."  On  hear- 
ing this  Kiihleborn  looked  up  angrily  at  the  Knight, 
scowled  at  him,  stamped,  and  then  shot  upwards 
through  the  waves  like  an  arrow.  His  fury  seemed 
to  make  him  expand  into  a  whale.  Again  the  swans 
began  to  warble,  to  wave  their  wings,  and  to  fly ;  the 
Knight  felt  himself  borne  high  over  alps  and  rivers, 
till  he  was  deposited  in  the  Castle  of  Ringstetten, 
and  awoke  in  his  bed. 

He  did  awake  in  his  bed,  just  as  one  of  his 
squires  entered  the  room,  and  told  him  that  Father 
Heilmann  was  still  lingering  near  the  castle  ;  for  he 
had  found  him  the  evening  before  in  the  forest,  liv- 
ing in  a  shed  he  had  made  for  himself  with  branches 
and  moss.  On  being  asked  what  he  was  staying 
for,  since  he  had  refused  to  bless  the  betrothed 
couple  ?  he  answered,  "  It  is  not  the  wedded  only 
who  stand  in  need  of  prayer;  and  though  I  came 
not  for  the  bridal,  there  may  yet  be  work  for  me  of 
another  kind.  We  must  be  prepared  for  every  thing. 
Sometimes  marriage  and  mourning  are  not  so  far 
apart ;  and  he  who  does  not  willfully  close  his  eyes 
rnay  perceive  it."  The  Knight  built  all  manner  of 
strange  conjectures  upon  these  words,  and  upon  his 
dream.  But  if  once  a  man  has  formed  a  settled 
purpose,  it  is  hard  indeed  to  shake  it.  The  end  af 
this  was,  that  their  plans  remained  unchanged. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

OF    THE    KNIGHT    HULDBRAND'S    SECOND    BRIDAL. 


Were  I  to  tell  you  how  the  wedding-day  at  Ring 
Btetten  passed,  you  might  imagine  yourself  contem- 
plating a  glittering  heap  of  gay  objects,  with  a  black 
crape  thrown  over  them,  through  which  the  splendid 
pageant,  instead  of  delighting  the  eye,  would  look 
like  a  mockery  of  all  earthly  joys.  Not  that  the 
festive  meeting  was  disturbed  by  any  spectral  appari- 
tions :  we  have  seen  that  the  castle  was  safe  from 
any  intrusion  of  the  malicious  water  sprites.  But 
the  Knight,  the  Fisherman,  and  all  the  guests  were 
haunted  by  a  feeling  that  the  chief  person,  the  soul 
of  the  feast,  was  missing ;  and  who  was  she  but  the 
gentle,  beloved  Undine  ?  As  often  as  they  heard  a 
door  open,  every  eye  turned  involuntarily  toward  it, 
and  when  nothing  ensued  but  the  entrance  of  the 
steward  with  some  more  dishes,  or  of  the  cupbearer 
with  a  fresh  supply  of  rich  wine,  the  guests  would 
look  sad  and  blank,  and  the  sparks  of  gayety  kindled 
by  the  light  jest  or  the  cheerful  discourse,  were 
quenched  in  the  damp  of  melancholy  recollections. 
The  bride  was  the  most  thoughtless,  and  conse- 
^[uently  the  most  cheerful  person  present ;  but  even 


UNDINE.  109 

she,  at  moments,  felt  it  unnatural  to  be  sitting  at 
the  head  <^  the  table,  decked  out  in  her  wreath  of 
green  and  her  embroidery  of  gold,  while  Undine's 
corpse  was  lying-  cold  and  stiff  in  the  bed  of  the 
Danube,  or  floating^  down  its  stream  to  the  ocean. 
For,  ever  since  her  father  had  used  these  wordvS, 
they  had  been  ringing  in  her  ears,  and  to-day  es- 
pecially they  pursued  her  without  ceasing. 

The  party  broke  up  before  night  had  closed  in ; 
not,  as  usual,  dispersed  by  the  eager  impatience  of 
the  bridegroom  to  be  alone  with  his  bride ;  but 
dropping  off  listlessly,  as  a  general  gloom  spread 
over  the  assembly ;  Bertalda  was  followed  to  her 
dressing-room  by  her  women  only,  and  the  Knight 
by  his  pages.  At  this  gloomy  feast,  there  was  no 
question  of  the  gay  and  sportive  train  of  bridesmaids 
and  young  men,  who  usually  attend  the  wedded  pair. 

Bertalda  tried  to  call  up  brighter  thoughts ;  she 
bade  her  women  display  before  her  a  splendid  set  of 
jewels,  the  gift  of  Huldbrand,  together  with  her 
richest  robes  and  veils,  that  she  might  select  the  gay- 
est and  handsomest  dress  for  the  morrow.  Her 
maids  seized  the  opportunity  of  wishing  their  young 
mistress  all  manner  of  joy,  nor  did  they  fail  to  extol 
the  beauty  of  the  bride  to  the  skies.  Bertalda,  liow- 
ever,  glanced  at  herself  in  the  glass,  and  sighed  : 
"Ah,  but  look  at  the  freckles  just  here,  on  my 
throat ! "  They  looked  and  found  it  was  indeed  so, 
but  called  them  beauty  spots  that  would  only  en- 
hance the  fairness  of  her  delicate  skin.     Bertalda 


112  UNDINE. 

thus  Undine  had  been  wont  to  knock,  when  she 
meant  to  steal  upon  him  playfully.  "  It  is  all  fancy  ! " 
thought  he.  "  The  bridal  bed  awaits  me."  —  "  Yes, 
but  it  is  a  cold  one,"  said  a  weeping  voice  from  with- 
out ;  and  the  mirror  then  showed  him  the  door  open- 
ing slowly,  and  the  white  form  coming  in,  and  closing 
the  door  gently  behind  her.  "They  have  opened 
the  mouth  of  the  spring,"  murmured  she  ;  "  and  now 
I  am  come,  and  now  must  thou  die."  His  beating 
heart  told  him  this  was  indeed  true ;  but  he  pressed 
his  hands  over  his  eyes,  and  said :  "  Do  not  bewilder 
me  with  terror  in  my  last  moments.  If  thy  veil 
conceals  the  features  of  a  spectre,  hide  them  from 
me  still,  and  let  me  die  in  peace."  —  "  Alas  ! "  re- 
joined the  forlorn  one,  "  wilt  thou  not  look  upon  me 
once  again  ?  I  am  fair,  as  when  thou  didst  woo  me 
on  the  promontory."  —  "  Oh,  could  that  be  true  !  " 
sighed  Huldbrand,  "  and  if  I  might  die  in  thy  em- 
brace ! "  —  "  Be  it  so,  my  dearest,"  said  she.  And 
she  raised  her  veil,  and  the  heavenly  radiance  of  her 
sweet  countenance  beamed  upon  him. 

Trembling,  at  once  with  love  and  awe,  the  Knight 
approached  her ;  she  received  him  with  a  tender 
embrace ;  but  instead  of  relaxing  her  hold,  she 
pressed  him  more  closely  to  her  heart,  and  wept  as 
if  her  soul  would  pour  itself  out.  Drowned  in  her 
iears  and  his  own,  Huldbrand  felt  his  heart  sink 
within  him,  and  at  last  he  fell  lifeless  from  the  fond 
arms  of  Undine  upon  his  pillow. 


undinp:. 


113 


"  I  have  wept  him  to  death ! "  said  she  to  the 
pages,  whom  she  passed  in  the  antechamber ;  and 
she  glided  slowly  through  tl^e  crowd,  and  went  back 
to  the  fountain. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

HOW  'THE    KNIGHT    HULDBRAND    WAS    INTERRED. 

Father  Heilmann  had  returned  to  the  castle,  as 
soon  as  he  heard  of  the  Ljprd  of  Ringstetten's  death, 
and  he  appeared  there  just  after  the  monk,  who  had 
married  the  hapless  pair,  had  fled  full  of  alarm  and 
horror.  "  It  is  well,"  answered  Heilmann,  when  told 
this :  "  now  is  the  time  for  my  office  ;  I  want  no  as- 
sistant." He  addressed  spiritual  exhortations  to  the 
widowed  bride,  but  little  impression  could  be  made 
on  so  worldly  and  thoughtless  a  mind.  The  old 
Fisherman,  although  grieved  to  the  heart,  resigned 
himself  more  readily  to  the  awful  dispensation  ;  and 
when  Bertalda  kept  calling  Undine  a  witch  and  a 
murderer,  the  old  man  calinly  answered :  "  The 
stroke  could  not  be  turned  away.  For  my  part,  I 
see  only  the  hand  of  God  therein  ;  and  none  grieved 
more  deeply  over  Huldbrand's  sentence,  than  she 
who  was  doomed  to  inflict  it,  the  poor  forsaken  Un- 
dine !  "  And  he  helped  to  arrange  the  funeral  cere- 
monies in  a  manner  suitable  to  the  high  rank  of  the 
dead.  He  was  to  be  buried  in  a  neighboring  hamlet, 
whose  churchyard  contained  the  graves  of  all  his  an- 
cestors, and  which  he    had    himself  enriched    with 


'  UNDINE.  115 

many  noble  gifts.  His  helmet  and  coat  of  arms  lay 
upon  the  coffin,  about  to  be  lowered  into  earth  with 
his  mortal  remains ;  for  Lord  Huldbrand  of  Ring- 
stetten  was  the  last  of  his  race. 

The  mourners  began  their  dismal  procession,  and 
the  sound  of  their  solemn  dirge  rose  into  the  calm 
blue  depths  of  heaven :  Heilmann  walked  first, 
bearing  on  high  a  crucifix,  and  the  bereaved  Ber- 
talda  followed  leaning  on  her  aged  father.  Suddenly, 
amid  the  crowd  of  mourners  who  composed  the 
widow's  train,  appeared  a  snow-white  figure,  deeply 
veiled,  with  hands  uplifted  in  an  attitude  of  intense 
grief  Those  that  stood  near  her  felt  a  shudder 
creep  over  them  ;  they  shrank  back,  and  thus  in- 
creased the  alarm  of  those  whom  the  stranger  next 
approached,  so  that  confusion  gradually  spread  itself 
through  the  whole  train.  Here  and  there  was  to  be 
found  a  soldier  bold  enough  to  address  the  figure, 
and  attempt  to  drive  her  away ;  but  she  always 
eluded  their  grasp,  and  the  next  moment  reappeared 
among  the  rest,  moving  along  with  slow  and  solemn 
step.  At  length,  when  the  attendants  had  all  fallen 
back,  she  found  herself  close  behind  Bertalda,  and 
now  slackened  her  pace  to  the  very  slowest  measure, 
so  that  the  widow  was  not  aware  of  her  presence. 
No  one  disturbed  her  again,  while  she  meekly  and 
reverently  glided  on  behind  her. 

So  they  advanced  till  they  reached  the  church- 
yard, when  the  whole  procession  formed  a  circle 
round  the  open  grave.  Bertalda  then  discovered  the 


116  UNDINE. 

unbidden  guest,  and  half-angry,  half-frightened,  she 
forbade  her  to  come  near  the  Knight's  resting-place. 
But  the  veiled  form  gently  shook  her  head,  and  ex- 
tended her  hands  in  humble  entreaty ;  this  gesture 
reminded  Bertalda  of  poor  Undine,  when  she  gave 
her  the  coral  necklace  on  the  Danube,  and  she  could 
not  but  weep.  Father  Heilmann  enjoined  silence  ; 
for  they  had  begun  to  heap  earth  over  the  grave, 
and  were  about  to  offer  up  solemn  prayers  around  it. 
Bertalda  knelt  down  in  silence,  and  all  her  followers 
did  the  same.  When  they  arose,  lo,  the  white  form 
had  vanished  !  and  on  the  spot  where  she  had  knelt, 
a  bright  silvery  brook  now  gushed  out  of  the  turf, 
and  flowed  round  the  Knight's  tomb,  till  it  had  al- 
most wholly  encircled  it ;  then  it  ran  further  on,  and 
emptied  itself  into  a  shady  pool  which  bounded  one 
side  of  the  churchyard.  From  that  time  forth,  the 
villagers  are  said  to  have  shown  travellers  this  clear 
spring,  and  they  still  believe  it  to  be  the  poor  for- 
saken Undine,  who  continues  thus  to  twine  her  arms 
round  her  beloved  lord. 


THE  TWO   CAPTAINS. 


THE  TWO   CAPTAINS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

A  MILD  summer  evening  rested  on  the  sea-shore 
near  the  city  of  Malaga,  awakening  the  guitar  of 
many  a  cheerful  singer,  as  well  from  the  ships  in  the 
harbor  as  from  the  houses  in  the  city  and  the  orna- 
mental garden-dwellings  around.  These  melodious 
tones  emulated  the  voices  of  the  birds  as  they  greeted 
the  refreshing  breezes  and  floated  from  the  mead- 
ows over  this  enchanting  region. 

Some  troops  of  infantry  were  on  the  strand,  and 
purposed  to  pass  the  night  there,  that  they  might  be 
ready  to  embark  at  the  earliest  dawn  of  morning. 
This  pleasant  evening  made  them  forget  that  they 
ought  to  devote  to  sleep  their  last  hours  on  European 
ground  ;  they  began  to  sing  war-songs,  and  to  drink 
long  life  to  the  mighty  Emperor  Charles  V.,  now 
beleaguering  the  pirate-nest  of  Tunis,  and  to  whose 
assistance  they  were  about  to  sail. 

These  happy  soldiers  were  not  all  of  one  race. 
Only  two  banners  waved  for  Spain ;  the  third  bore 
the  German  colors ;  and  the  difference  of  manners 


120  THE   TWO    CAPTAINS. 

and  speech  had  often  previously  given  rise  to  uuich 
bantering.  Now,  however,  thoughts  of  the  approach- 
ing voyage,  and  the  dangers  they  would  share  to- 
gether, as  well  as  the  enjoyment  which  this  lovely 
southern  evening  poured  through  soul  and  sense, 
united  the  comrades  in  full  and  undisturbed  concord. 
The  Germans  tried  to  speak  Spanish,  and  the  vSpan- 
iards  German,  without  its  recurring  to  any  one  to 
remark  the  blunders  and  mistakes  that  were  made. 
Each  helped  the  other ;  thinking  only  how  best  to 
gain  the  good-will  of  his  companion  by  means  of  his 
own  language. 

Apart  from  this  noisy  group,  a  young  German 
captain.  Sir  Heimbert  of  Waldhausen,  was  reclining 
under  a  cork-tree,  and  looking  up  to  the  stars  with  a 
steadfast  and  solemn  gaze,  very  different  from  the 
frank,  social  spirit  which  his  comrades  knew  and 
loved  in  him  so  well.  A  Spanish  captain,  named 
Don  Frederigo  Mendez,  approached  him.  He  was 
as  young,  and  as  much  accustomed  to  martial  ex- 
ercises; but  his  disposition  was  as  reserved  and 
thoughtful  as  Heimbert's  was  gentle  and  frank. 
"  Pardon  me,  seiior,"  began  the  solemn  Spaniard, 
"  if  I  disturb  your  meditations  ;  but  I  have  so  often 
known  you  as  a  courageous  warrior  and  faithful  com- 
panion in  arms,  in  the  many  hot  fights  in  which  1 
have  had  the  honor  to  see  you,  that  I  would  choose 
you  before  all  others  for  a  knightly  service,  if  it  will 
not  interfere  with  your  own  plans  and  projects  foi 
this  evening." 


THE   TWO   CAPTAINS.  121 

"  Dear  sir,"  frankly  returned  Heimbert,  "  I  have 
an  affair  of  importance  to  transact  before  sunrise ; 
but  till  midnight  I  am  right  AviJling  and  ready  to 
render  you  any  service  as  a  brother  in  arms." 

"  Enough,"  said  Frederigo  ;  "  for  before  midnight 
must  the  tones  have  long  ceased,  in  "which  I  take 
leave  of  the  dearest  creature  I  have  known  in  my 
native  city.  But,  that  you  may  understand  the  whole 
affair,  as  my  noble  companion  should,  listen  to  me 
attentively  for  a  few  moments  :  — 

"  Some  time  before  I  left  Malaga  to  join  our  great 
emperor's  army,  and  to  assist  in  spreading  the  glory 
of  his  arms  in  Italy,  I  served,  after  the  manner  of 
young  knights,  a  damsel  of  this  city,  the  beautiful 
Lucilla.  She  stood  hardly  on  the  border  that  di- 
vides childhood  from  growing  womanhood  ;  and  as 
I,  then  a  mere  boy,  offered  my  homage  with  friendly 
childlike  mind,  so  my  young  mistress  in  similar  guise 
received  it. 

"  At  last  I  went  to  Italy,  as  you  very  well  know, 
who  were  my  companion  in  many  a  hot  fight,  as  well 
as  in  many  a  magic  and  tempting  scene  in  that  lux- 
urious land.  Through  all  our  changes  I  held  the 
image  of  my  gentle  mistress  steadfastly,  and  never 
once  relinquished  the  service  and  faith  I  had  vowed 
to  her ;  though  I  will  not  conceal  from  you  that  it 
was  more  to  fulfill  the  word  I  had  pledged  at  niy 
departure  than  from  any  immoderate  glowing  feeling 
of  my  heart.  When  we  returned  to  my  native  city, 
a  few  weeks  since,  I  found  my  lady  married  to  one 


122  THE  TWO  CAPTAINS. 

of  the  richest  and  most  distinguished  knights  of  Mal- 
aga. Fiercer  far  than  love,  jealousy  (that  almost 
almighty  child  of  heaven  and  hell)  now  spurred  me 
on  to  follow  Lucilla's  steps.  Froni  her  dwelling  to 
the  church  —  from  thence  to  the  houses  of  her 
friends,  and,  again  to  her  home  ;  and  even,  as  far  as 
possible,  into  the  circle  of  knights  and  ladies  which 
surrounds  her,  I  unWeariedly  pursued  her.  I  thus 
assured  myself  that  no  other  young  knight  attended 
her,  and  that  she  had  entirely  devoted  herself  to  the 
husband  her  parents  had  selected  for  her,  although 
he  was  not  the  one  of  her  heart's  choice.  This  so 
fully  contented  me,  that  I  should  not  have  had  occa- 
sion to  trouble  you  at  this  moment,  if  Lucilla  had 
not  approached  me  the  other  day,  and  whispered  in 
my  ear,  that  I  should  not  provoke  her  husband,  for 
he  was  very  passionate  and  bold ;  to  herself  it  threat- 
ened no  danger  —  not  the  least  —  because  he  loved 
and  honored  her  above  all  things  ;  but  upon  that 
very  account  would  his  anger  fall  more  fearfully 
upon  me.  You  can  now  easily  understand,  my  noble 
comrade,  that  to  preserve  my  character  for  contempt 
of  danger,  I  must  now  pursue  Lucilla's  steps  more 
closely  than  ever,  and  sing  nightly  serenades  beneath 
her  flowery  window  till  the  morning  star  makes  its 
mirror  in  the  sea.  At  midnight,  Lucilla's  husband 
sets  out  for  Madrid,  and  after  that  hour  I  will  care- 
fully avoid  the  street  in  which  she  dwells ;  but  until 
then,  as  soon  as  the  evening  is  sufficiently  advanced, 
I  will  not  cease  to  sing  love-romances   before  bis 


THE   TWO   CAPTAINS.  123 

house.  I  have  learnt  that  not  only  he,  but  also  Lu- 
cilla's  brothers  have  engaged  in  the  quarrel ;  and  it  is 
this,  seiior,  which  makes  me  request  for  a  short  time 
the  assistance  of  your  good  sword." 

Heimbert  warmly  seized  the  Spaniard's  hand,  and 
said,  "  To  show  you,  dear  sir,  how  willingly  I  under- 
take what  you  wish,  I  will  meet  your  confidence  with 
like  frankness,  and  relate  a  pleasant  incident  which 
happened  to  me  in  this  city,  and  beg  you,  after  mid- 
night, to  render  me  a  little  service.  My  story  is 
short,  and  will  not  detain  you  longer  than  we  must 
wait  for  the  twilight  to  become  deep  enough  to  begin 
your  serenade 

"  The  day  after  we  arrived  here,  I  was  amusing 
myself  in  one  of  the  beautiful  gardens  which  sur- 
round us.  I  have  now  been  long  in  these  southern 
lands,  but  I  believe  the  dreams  which  every  night 
carry  me  back  to  my  German  home  are  the  cause 
of  my  finding  everything  about  me  here  so  strange 
and  astonishing  still.  At  all  events,  when  I  wake 
each  morning  I  wonder  anew,  as  if  I  was  just  arrived. 
I  was  then  wandering  among  the  aloes,  and  under 
the  laurel  and  oleander  trees,  as  one  bewildered. 
Suddenly  I  heard  a  cry  near  me,  and  a  young  lady, 
dressed  in  white,  flew  into  my  arms  and  fainted 
away,  while  her  companions  separated  in  every  direc- 
tion. A  soldier  has  always  his  senses  about  him,  and 
I  soon  perceived  a  furious  bull  pursuing  the  beautiful 
damsel.  Quickly  I  threw  her  over  a  flowery  hedge, 
and  sprang  after  myself,  whilst  the  beast,  blind  with 


124  THE  TWO   CAPTAINS. 

rage,  passed  us  by ;  and  I  could  afterwards  hear  no 
more  of  it,  than  that  it  had  escaped  from  a  neighbor- 
ing court-yard,  where  some  youths  were  trying  to 
commence  a  bull-fight,  and  had  broken  furiously  into 
this  garden. 

"  I  was  now  alone  with  the  senseless  lady  in  my 
arms;  and  she  was  so  wondrously  beautiful  that  I 
have  never  in  my  whole  life  felt  happier  or  sadder 
than  at  that  moment.  I  laid  her  upon  the  grass,  and 
sprinkled  her  angel  brow  with  water  from  a  fountain 
near  us.  At  last  she  came  to  herself,  and  as  she 
opened  her  lovely  eyes,  I  thought  I  now  knew  how 
the  blessed  spirits  look  in  heaven. 

"  She  thanked  me  with  grateful  and  courteous 
words,  and  called  me  her  knight.  But  I  was  so  en- 
chanted, I  could  not  utter  a  word ;  and  she  must 
almost  have  thought  me  dumb.  At  length  my  speech 
returned ;  and  I  ventured  to  breathe  a  request  — 
which  came  from  my  heart  —  that  the  lovely  lady 
would  often  give  me  the  happiness  of  seeing  her  in 
this  garden,  for  the  few  weeks  I  should  remain  here, 
till  the  service  of  the  emperor  should  drive  me  forth 
to  the  burning  sands  of  Africa.  She  looked  at  me, 
half  smiling,  half  sadly,  and  murmured,  *  Yes.'  And 
she  has  kept  her  word,  and  appeared  there  daily, 
without  our  having  yet  ventured  to  speak  to  one 
another.  For  though  we  were  sometimes  quite 
alone,  I  could  not  do  more  than  enjoy  the  happiness 
of  walking  by  her  side.  Often  she  has  sung  to  me  ; 
and  I  have  answered  her  in  song.     When  I  yester- 


THE  TWO   CAPTAINS.  125 

day  informed  her  that  our  departure  was  so  near,  I 
fancied  there  was  a  tear  in  her  heavenly  eye ;  and 
I  must  have  looked  very  sorrowful  also,  for  she  said, 
consolingly,  'Ah,  pious,  childlike  warrior!  one  may 
confide  in  you  as  in  an  angel.  After  midnight,  be- 
fore the  twilight  summons  you  to  embark,  I  give  you 
leave  to  say  farewell  to  me  in  this  place.  If  you 
could  find  a  faithful  friend,  whose  silence  you  could 
depend  on,  to  watch  the  entrance  from  the  street,  it 
might  be  as  well ;  for  many  soldiers  will  be  at  that 
time  returning  from  their  last  carouse  in  the  city.* 
Now  God  has  sent  me  such  a  friend ;  and  I  shall  go 
joyfully  to  the  lovely  maiden." 

"  I  wish  the  service  you  require  had  more  danger," 
answered  Frederigo,  '*  that  I  might  better  prove  to 
you  how  faithfully  I  would  serve  you  with  life  and 
limb.  But  come,  noble  brother !  the  hour  of  my 
adventure  is  arrived." 

Frederigo  took  a  guitar  under  his  arm  ;  and  wrap- 
ping themselves  in  their  mantles,  the  young  captains 
hastily  made  their  way  to  the  city. 

The  night-violets  before  Lucilla's  window  were 
pouring  forth  their  sweet  perfume,  when  Frederigo, 
leaning  in  the  angle  of  an  old  wide  shadowing  church 
opposite,  began  to  tune  his  guitar.  Heimbert  placed 
himself  behind  a  pillar,  his  drawn  sword  under  his 
mantle,  and  his  clear  blue  eyes,  like  two  watching 
stars,  quietly  penetrating  around. 

Frederigo  sang :  — 


126  THE  TWO   CAPTAINS. 

"  Fair  in  the  spring-bright  meadows  grew 

A  little  flower  in  ^lay, 
And  rosy-tinted  petals  threw 
A  blush  upon  its  snowy  hue, 

Beneath  the  snowy  ray. 

"To  me,  a  youth,  that  little  flower 
My  soul's  delight  became; 
And  often  then,  in  happy  hour, 
I  taught  my  tongue  with  courteous  power 
Some  flattering  lay  to  frame. 

"  But  ah!  from  where  the  floweret  stood 

In  delicate  array, 
Was  I  to  distant  scenes  of  blood, 
To  foreign  lands,  o'er  tield  and  flood 

Soon  summoned  far  away. 

**  And  now  I  am  returned  again, 
I  seek  my  lovely  flower: 
But  all  my  hopeful  search  is  vain; 
Transplanted  from  its  grassy  plain, 
My  flower  is  free  no  more. 

"  A  gardener  has  the  treasure  found, 
And  claimed  it  for  his  prize: 
Now  cherished  in  a  guarded  bound. 
And  hedged  with  golden  lattice  round, 
She  is  denied  mine  eyes. 

"  His  lattice  he  may  freely  twine. 

His  jealous  bars  I  grant: 
But  all  I  need  not  yet  resign; 
For  still  this  pure  delight  is  mine, 

Her  wondrous  praise  to  chant. 

**  And,  wandering  in  the  coolness  there, 
I'll  touch  my  cithern's  string. 

Still  celebrate  the  floweret  fair; 

While  e'en  the  gardener  shall  not  dare 
Forbid  my  voice  to  sing." 


THE   TWO   CAPTAINS.  12T 

"  That  remains  to  be  proved,  senor,"  said  a  man, 
stepping  close,  and,  as  he  thought,  unobserved,  to 
Frederigo.  He  had  been  apprised  of  the  stranger's 
approach  by  a  signal  from  his  watchful  friend,  and 
answered  with  the  greatest  coolness :  "  If  you  w'.sh 
to  commence  a  suit  with  my  guitar,  senor,  you  will 
find  she  has  a  tongue  of  steel,  which  has  already  on 
many  occasions  done  her  excellent  service.  With 
which  do  you  wish  to  speak  ?  —  with  the  guitar,  or 
with  the  advocate  ?  " 

While  the  stranger  hesitated  what  to  reply  to  this 
bold  speech,  Heimbert  perceived  two  mantled  figures 
draw  near,  and  remain  standing  a  few  steps  from  him 
—  one  behind  the  otlier,  so  as  to  cut  off  Frederigo's 
flight,  if  he  had  intended  to  escape. 

"I  believe,  dear  sirs,"  said  Sir  Heimbert,  in  a 
friendly  manner,  "  we  are  here  on  the  same  errand  : 
to  take  care  that  no  one  intrudes  upon  the  confer- 
ence of  yonder  knights.  At  least,  that  is  my  busi- 
ness. And  I  can  assure  you,  that  any  one  who 
attempts  to  interfere  with  their  affair  shall  receive 
my  dagger  in  his  heart.  You  see  we  shall  best  fulfill 
our  duty  by  remaining  still."  The  two  gentlemen 
bowed  courteously,  and  were  silent. 

So  astonishing  was  the  quiet  self-possession  with 
which  the  two  soldiers  carried  on  their  affair,  that 
their  three  companions  were  at  a  loss  to  imagine  how 
they  would  commence  their  quarrel.  At  last  Fred- 
erigo again  touched  his  guitar,  and  appeared  about 
ro  begin  another  song.     At  this  mark  of  contempt 


128  THE   TWO   CAPTAINS. 

and  unconsciousness  of  danger,  Lucilla's  husband 
(for  it  was  he  who  had  taken  his  stand  by  Don  Fred- 
erigo)  was  so  enraged  that  he,  without  further  delay, 
snatched  his  sword  from  its  sheath,  and  called  out  in 
a  voice  of  suppressed  rage  :  "  Draw  !  or  I  shall  stab 
you !  " 

"  Very  willingly,  senor,"  answered  Frederigo,  com- 
posedly. "  You  have  no  need  to  threaten  me,  and 
might  quite  as  well  have  spoken  quietly."  So  saying, 
he  laid  his  guitar  in  a  niche  in  the  church  wall,  seized 
his  weapon,  and,  bowing  gracefully  to  his  adversary, 
the  fight  began. 

For  some  time  the  two  figures  by  Heimbert's  side, 
who  were  Lucilla's  brothers,  remained  quite  quiet ; 
but  as  Frederigo  began  to  get  the  better  of  their 
brother-in-law,  they  made  a  movement,  as  if  they 
would  take  part  in  the  fight.  At  this,  Heimbert  made 
his  good  sword  gleam  in  the  moonlight,  and  said : 
"  Dear  sirs,  you  surely  would  not  wish  me  to  put  my 
threat  into  execution.  Pray  do  not  oblige  me  to  do 
so ;  for  if  it  cannot  be  otherwise,  doubt  not  I  shall 
keep  my  word."  The  two  young  men  remained  from 
this  time  quite  motionless,  surprised  at  the  cheerful, 
truehearted  friendliness  of  all  Heimbert's  words. 

Meanwhile  had  Frederigo,  though  pressing  har  1 
upon  his  adversary,  yet  carefully  avoided  wounding; 
him ;  and  at  last,  by  a  dexterous  movement,  he 
wrested  his  weapon  from  him  ;  so  that  Lucilla's  hus- 
band, in  the  surprise  and  shock  of  this  unexpected 
advantage,  retreated  a  few  steps.     Frederigo  threw 


THE   TWO   CAPTAINS.  129 

the  sword  in  the  air,  and  adroitly  catching  it  near 
the  point  as  it  descended,  said,  as  he  offered  the  or- 
namented hilt  to  his  opponent :  "  Take  it,  seiior  ; 
and  I  hope  this  matter  is  ended  ;  and  you  now  un- 
derstand that  I  am  only  here  to  show  I  fear  no  dan- 
ger in  the  world.  The  bell  tolls  twelve  from  the  old 
dome  ;  and  I  give  you  my  word  of  honor,  as  a  knight 
and  a  soldier,  that  neither  is  Dona  Lucilla  pleased 
with  my  attentions,  nor  should  I,  if  I  lived  a  hundred 
years  in  Malaga,  continue  to  serenade  her.  So  pur- 
sue your  journey  in  peace  ;  and  farewell."  Then  he 
once  more  greeted  his  conquered  adversary  with 
solemn,  stern  courtesy,  and  withdrew  Heimbert 
followed  him^  after  he  had  cordially  shaken  hands 
with  the  two  brothers,  saying :  "  Never  let  it  again 
enter  your  heads,  dear  young  gentlemen,  to  interfere 
in  an  honorable  fight.   ^  Do  you  understand  me  ?  " 

He  soon  overtook  his  companion,  and  walked  by 
his  side  in  silence  —  his  heart  beating  with  joy,  sor- 
row, and  expectation  Don  Frederigo  Mendez  was 
also  silent,  till  Heimbert  stopped  before  a  garden- 
door  overhung  with  fruitful  orange-boughs,  and 
pointing  to  a  pomegranate-tree  laden  with  fruit, 
said :  "  We  are  at  the  place,  dear  comrade."  Then  the 
Spaniard  appeared  about  to  ask  a  question ;  but  he 
checked  himself,  and  merely  said :  "  Understand  me  ; 
you  have  my  word  of  honor  to  protect  this  entrance 
for  you  till  the  hour  of  dawn."  He  began  walking 
to  and  fro  before  the  gate  with  drawn  sword,  like  a 
sentinel ;  whilst  Heimbert,  trembling  with  joy,  has- 
tened through  the  dark  groves  within. 


CHAPTER  11. 

He  had  not  far  to  seek  the  lovely  star  which  he 
BO  deeply  felt  was  the  one  destined  to  shed  its  light 
over  his  whole  life.  The  full  moon  revealed  to  him 
the  slender  form  of  the  lady  walking  near  the  en- 
trance. She  wept  softly,  and  yet  smiled  with  such 
composure,  that  her  tears  seemed  rather  to  resemble 
a  decoration  of  pearls  than  a  veil  of  sorrow. 

The  lovers  wandered  silently  beside  one  another 
through  the  flowery  pathway,  half  in  sorrow,  half  in 
joy;  while  sometimes  the,  night  air  touched  the 
guitar  on  the  lady's  arm  so  lightly,  that  a  slight  mur- 
mur blended  with  the  song  of  the  nightingale  ;  or 
her  delicate  fingers  on  the  strings  awoke  a  few  fleet- 
ing chords,  and  the  shooting  stars  seemed  as  if  they 
would  pursue  the  retreating  tones  of  the  guitar. 

Oh  how  truly  blessed  was  this  hour  to  the  youth 
and  maiden  !  for  now  neither  rash  wishes  nor  impure 
desires  had  any  place  in  their  minds.  They  walked 
side  by  side,  satisfied  that  the  good  God  had  granted 
them  this  happiness  ;  and  so  little  desiring  anything 
further,  that  the  fleeting  and  perishable  nature  of 
the  present  floated  away  in  the  background  of  their 
thoughts.    In  the  midst  of  this  beautiful  garden  they 


THE  TWO   CAPTAINS.  131 

found  a  large  open  lawn,  ornamented  with  statues, 
and  surrounding;  a  fountain.  On  the  edge  of  this  the 
lovers  sat  down,  alternately  fixing  their  eyes  on  the 
water  sparkling  in  the  moonlight  and  on  one  another. 
The  maiden  touched  her  guitar ;  and  Heimbert, 
compelled  by  some  irresistible  impulse,  sang  the  fol« 
lowing;  words  to  it :  — 

"  A  sweet,  sweet  life  have  I, 
But  cannot  name  its  charm; 
0,  would  it  teach  me  consciously, 

That  so  my  hps,  in  calm, 
Soft,  gentle  songs,  should  ever  praise 
What  my  fond  spirit  endless  says.*' 

He  suddenly  stopped,  and  blushed,  for  he  feared 
he  had  said  too  much.  The  lady  blushed  also  ;  and 
after  playing  some  time,  half-abstractedly,  on  the 
strings,  she  sang  as  if  still  in  a  dream  :  — 

"  Who  beside  the  youth  is  singing. 
Seated  on  the  tender  grass, 
Where  the  moon  her  light  is  flinging, 
And  the  sparkling  waters  pass? 

"  Shall  the  maid  reveal  her  name, 
When,  though  still  unknown  it  be, 
Glows  her  trembling  cheek  with  shame, 
And  her  heart  beats  anxiougly  ? 

"  First  let  the  knight  be  nam'd  —  'tis  he 
Who,  in  his  bright  array. 
With  Spaniards  stood  triumphantly 
Upon  the  glorious  day. 

*■  Who  before  Pavia  bravely  fought, 
A  bov  of  sixteen  vears : 


132  THE    TWO    CAPTAINS. 

Pride  to  his  country  hath  he  brought, 
And  to  his  foemen  tears. 

"Heimbert  is  his  noble  name; 
Victor  he  in  many  a  fight; 
Doiia  Clara  feels  no  shame, 
Sitting  by  so  biave  a  knight. 

"  In  her  name's  soft  sound  revealing, 
Seated  on  the  tender  grass. 
Where  the  moonbeams'  light  is  stealing, 
And  the  sparkling  waters  pass." 

**  Ah,"  said  Heimbert,  blushing  more  deeply  than 
before,  "  0,  Dona  Clara,  that  affair  at  Pavia  was 
a  very  insignificant  feat  of  arms  ;  and  if  it  had  de- 
served a  reward,  what  could  better  serve  as  one  than 
the  surpassing  bliss  which  I  now  enjoy  ?  Now  I 
know  what  your  name  is,  and  dare  address  you  by 
it,  you  angel  bright,  Dona  Clara !  you  blessed  and 
beautiful  Dona  Clara !  Only  tell  me  who  has  made 
so  favorable  a  report  of  my  youthful  deeds,  that  I 
may  ever  think  of  him  gratefully." 

"  Can  the  noble  Heimbert  of  Waldhausen  sup- 
pose," replied  Clara,  that  the  warriors  of  Spain  sent 
no  sons  where  he  stood  in  battle  ?  You  have  surely 
seen  them  near  you  in  the  fight ;  and  how,  then,  can 
ij;  surprise  you  that  your  glories  are  known  here  ?  " 

They  now  heard  the  silvery  tones  of  a  little  bell 
from  the  neighboring  palace,  and  Clara  whispered, 
^'  It  is  time  to  part :  adieu,  my  hero ! "  And  she 
smiled  on  Heimbert  through  her  tears  ;  and  as  she 
bent  towards  him,  he  almost  fancied  he  felt  a  gentle 


THE   TWO   CAPTAINS.  133 

kiss  breathed  on  his  lips.  When  he  looked  around, 
Clara  had  disappeared :  the  morning  clouds  began 
to  assume  the  rosy  tint  of  dawn,  and  he  rejoined  his 
watchful  friend  at  the  entrance-door,  with  a  whole 
heaven  of  love's  proud  happiness  in  his  heart. 

"  Stand  !  no  further  !  "  exclaimed  Frederigo,  as 
Heimbert  appeared  from  the  garden,  holding,  at  the 
sanre  time,  his  drawn  sword  towards  him. 

"  Oh,  you  are  mistaken,  my  good  comrade,"  said  the 
German,  laughing;  "it  is  I  whom  you  see  before 
you." 

"  Don't  imagine,  Sir  Heimbert  of  Waldhausen, 
that  I  mistake  you,"  said  Frederigo ;  "  but  I  have 
kept  my  word,  and  honorably  fulfilled  my  promise  to 
be  your  guard  in  this  place ;  and  now  I  demand  of 
you  to  draw  without  further  delay,  and  fight  for  your 
life." 

"  Alas  !  "  sighed  Heimbert,  "  I  have  often  heard 
that  there  are  witches  in  these  southern  lands,  who 
have  the  power  to  deprive  people  of  their  senses 
with  their  magic  arts  and  charms,  but  till  to-day  I 
have  never  experienced  anything  of  the  sort.  Think 
better  of  it,  my  dear  comrade,  and  go  with  me  to  the 
shore." 

Frederigo  smiled  scornfully,  and  answered,  "  Leave 
off  your  silly  nonsense ;  and  if  one  must  explain 
everything  to  you,  word  by  word,  before  you  under- 
stand it,  I  will  tell  you  that  the  lady  you  came  to 
meet  in  this  my  garden.  Dona  Clara  Mendez,  is  my 
only  and  dearest  sister.  Now  lose  no  further  timC; 
and  draw,  seSor." 


134  THE  TWO  CAPTAINS. 

"  God  forbid !  "  exclaimed  the  German,  without 
touching  his  weapon :  "  you  shall  be  my  brother-in- 
law,  Frederigo,  and  not  my  murderer,  still  less  will 
I  be  yours." 

Frederigo  shook  his  head  angrily,  and  advanced 
with  measured  steps  towards  his  companion.  Heim- 
bert,  however,  continued  motionless,  and  said,  "  No, 
Frederigo,  I  can  never  do  you  any  harm ;  for*  not 
only  do  I  love  your  sister,  but  you  must  certainly  be 
tbe  person  who  has  spoken  to  her  so  honorably  of 
my  battle-deeds  in  Italy." 

"  If  I  did  so,"  answered  Frederigo,  "  I  was  a  fool. 
But  thou,  thou  weak  coward,  draw  thy  sword,  or  "  — 

Frederigo  had  hardly  spoken  these  words,  before 
Heimbert,  glowing  with  indignation,  snatched  his 
sword  from  its  sheath,  exclaiming,  "  This  the  devil 
himself  could  not  bear ! "  And  now  the  two  young 
captains  fiercely  closed  upon  one  another. 

This  was  quite  another  battle  to  that  which  Fred- 
erigo had  previously  fought  with  Lucilla's  husband. 
The  two  soldiers  well  understood  their  weapons,  and 
boldly  strove  with  one  another ;  the  light  gleamed 
from  their  swords,  as  first  one  and  then  the  other 
made  a  deadly  thrust  with  the  speed  of  lightning, 
which  his  adversary  as  speedily  turned  aside.  Firmly 
they  planted  the  left  foot,  as  if  rooted  in  the  earth, 
the  right  advanced  one  step  to  make  each  onset,  and 
then  quickly  withdrawn  to  recover  their  footing. 
From  the  resolution  and  quiet  self-possession  with 
frhich  both  combatants  fought,  it  was  easy  to  see  that 


THE  TWO  CAPTAINS.  135 

one  or  other  of  them  must  find  his  grave  beneath 
the  oran^jje-trees,  whose  overhanging  boughs  were 
now  ilhiminated  by  the  glow  of  morning.  This 
would  certainly  have  been  the  case,  had  not  the 
report  of  a  cannon  from  the  harbor  reached  them. 
The  combatants  stopped  as  at  an  understood 
signal,  and  silently  counted  till  thirty,  when  a  second 
gun  was  heard.  '•  That  is  the  signal  for  embarka- 
tion, seiior,"  said  Frederigo ;  ''  we  are  now  in  the 
emperor's  service,  and  all  fighting  is  unlawful  which 
is  not  against  the  foes  of  Charles  the  Fifth.  We 
must  defer  our  combat  until  the  termination  of  the 
war." 

•  The  two  captains  hastened  to  the  shore,  and  were 
engaged  in  the  embarkation  of  their  troops.  The 
sun,  rising  from  the  sea,  shone  at  once  on  the  ships 
and  the  water. 


CHAPTER  III. 

The  voyagers  had  for  some  time  to  contend  with 
contrary  winds  ;  and  when  at  last  the  coast  of  Bar- 
bary  became  visible,  the  evening  closed  so  deeply 
over  the  sea  that  no  pilot  in  the  little  squadron 
would  venture  nearer  land,  and  they  anchored  in  the 
calm  sea.  They  crossed  themselves,  and  anxiously 
waited  for  the  morning  ;  while  the  soldiers,  full  of« 
hope  and  anticipation  of  honor,  assembled  in  groups 
upon  the  decks,  straining  their  eyes  to  see  the  long- 
desired  scene  of  their  glory. 

Meanwhile  the  heavy  firing  of  besiegers  and  be- 
sieged thundered  imceasingly  from  the  fortress  of 
Goletta  ;  and  as  the  heavy  clouds  of  night  thickened 
over  the  shore,  the  flames  of  the  burning  houses  in 
the  city  became  more  visible,  and  the  course  of  the 
fiery  shots  could  be  distinctly  traced  as  they  crossed 
each  other  in  their  path  of  frightful  devastation.  It 
was  evident  that  the  Mussulmans  had  sallied  forth, 
for  a  sharp  fire  of  musketry  was  suddenly  heard 
amidst  the  roaring  of  the  cannon.  The  fiorht  now 
approached  the  trenches  of  the  Christians;  and  from 
the  ships  they  could  hardly  see  whether  the  besiegers 
were  in  danger  or  not.     At  last  they  perceived  that 


THE  TWO   CAPTAINS.  137 

the  Turks  were  driven  back  into  the  fortress :  thither 
the  Christian  host  pursued  them,  and  loud  shouts  of 
victory  were  heard  from  the  Spanish  camp  —  Goletta 
was  taken ! 

The  troops  on  board  the  ships  were  composed  of 
young  courageous  men  ;  and  how  their  hearts  glowed 
and  beat  high  at  this  glorious  spectacle  need  not  be 
detailed  to  those  who  carry  a  brave  heart  in  their 
own  bosoms ;  while  to  any  other,  all  description 
would  be  thrown  away. 

Heimbert  and  Frederigo  stood  near  one  another. 
"  I  know  not,"  said  the  latter,  "  what  it  is  which  tells 
me  that  to-morrow  I  must  plant  my  standard  upon 
yonder  height,  which  is  so  brightly  lighted  up  by  the 
burning  brands  in  Goletta." —  "  That  is  just  my  feel- 
ing," said  Heimbert.  Then  the  two  captains  were 
silent,  and  turned  angrily  away. 

The  wished-for  morning  at  last  arose,  the  ships 
neared  the  shore,  and  the  troops  landed,  while  an 
officer  was  immediately  dispatched  to  apprise  the 
mighty  general  Alva  of  the  arrival  of  this  reinforce- 
ment. The  soldiers  hastily  ranged  themselves  on 
the  beach,  and  were  soon  in  battle-order,  to  await  the 
inspection  of  their  great  leader. 

Clouds  of  dust  appeared  in  the  gray  twilight,  and 
the  officer,  hastening  back,  announced  the  approach 
of  the  general.  And  because,  in  the  language  of 
Castile,  Alva  signifies  "  morning,"  the  Spaniards 
raised  a  shout  of  triumph  at  the  happy  omen  they 
perceived  in  the  first  beams  of  the  rising  sun  and 


138  THE  TWO  CAPTAINS. 

the  head  of  the  general's  staff  becoming  visible  to- 
gether. 

Alva's  stern  pale  face  soon  appeared :  he  was 
mounted  upon  a  large  Andalusian  charger  of  the 
deepest  black,  and  galloped  up  and  down  the  lines 
once  ;  then,  halting  in  the  middle,  looked  over  the 
ranks  with  a  scrutinizing  eye,  and  said,  with  evident 
satisfaction,  "You  pass  muster  well.  'Tis  as  it 
should  be.  I  like  to  see  you  in  such  order,  and  can 
perceive  that,  notwithstanding  your  youth,  you  are 
tried  soldiers.  We  will  first  hold  a  review,  and  then 
I  will  lead  you  to  something  more  interesting." 

He  dismounted,  and,  walking  to  the  right  wing, 
began  to  inspect  one  troop  after  another  in  the  clos- 
est manner,  summoning  each  captain  to  his  side, 
and  exacting  from  him  an  account  of  the  most  mi- 
nute particulars.  Sometimes  a  cannon-ball  from  the 
fortress  whistled  over  the  heads  of  the  soldiers  ;  and 
then  Alva  would  stand  still,  and  closely  observe  their 
countenances.  When  he  saw  that  no  eye  moved,  a 
contented  smile  spread  itself  over  his  solemn  face. 

When  he  had  thus  examined  both  divisions,  he 
remounted  his  horse,  and  again  placed  himself  in  the 
middle.  Stroking  his  long  beard,  he  said,  "  You  are 
in  such  good  order,  soldiers,  that  you  shall  take  your 
part  in  the  glorious  day  which  now  dawns  for  our 
Christian  Armada.  We  will  take  Barbarossa  !  Do 
you  hear  the  drums  and  fifes  in  the  camp  ?  and  see 
him  sally  forth  to  meet  the  emperor  ?  Yonder  is  the 
place  for  you !  " 


THE  TAVO   CAPTAINS.  139 

"  Vivat  Carolus  Quintiis  !  "  resounded  through  the 
ranks.  Alva  beckoned  the  captains  to  him,  and  ap- 
pointed to  each  his  duty.  He  was  used  to  mingle 
the  German  and  Spanish  troops  to^rether,  that  emu- 
lation might  increase  their  courage ;  and  on  the 
present  occasion  it  happened  that  Heimbert  ard 
Frederigo  were  commanded  to  storm  the  height 
which,  now  illumined  by  the  beams  of  morning, 
they  recognized  as  the  very  same  that  had  appeared 
so  inviting  the  night  before. 

The  cannons  roared,  and  the  trumpets  sounded, 
the  colors  waved  proudly  in  the  breeze,  and  the 
leaders  gave  the  word  "  March  ! "  when  the  troops 
rushed  on  all  sides  to  the  battle. 

Thrice  had  Frederigo  and  Heimbert  almost  forced 
their  way  through  a  breach  in  the  wall  of  the  fortifi- 
cations on  the  height,  and  thrice  were  they  repulsed, 
by  the  fierce  resistance  of  the  Turks,  into  the  valley 
below.  The  Mussulmans  shouted  after  the  retreating 
foe,  clashed  their  weapons  furiously  together,  and 
contemptuously  laughing,  asked  whether  any  one 
would  again  venture  to  give  heart  and  brain  to  the 
cimeter,  and  his  body  to  the  rolling  stones.  The 
two  captains,  gnashing  their  teeth  with  fury,  rear- 
ranged their  ranks,  in  order  to  fill  the  places  of  the 
slain  and  mortally  wounded  in  these  three  fruitless 
jittacks.  Meanwhile  a  murmur  ran  through  the 
Christian  host,  that  a  witch  fought  for  the  enemy, 
and  helped  them  to  conquer. 

At  this  moment  Duke  Alva  rode  up  to  them  ;  he 


140  THE  TWO  CAPTAINS. 

looked  sharply  at  the  breach  they  had  made.  "  Could 
you  not  break  through  the  foe  here  ?  "  said  he,  shak- 
ing his  head.  "  This  surprises  me  ;  for  from  you  two 
youths,  and  your  troops,  I  expected  better  things." 

"  Do  you  hear,  do  you  hear  that  ?  "  cried  the  cap- 
tains, pacing  through  their  lines. 

The  soldiers  shouted  loudly,  and  demanded  to  be 
led  once  more  against  the  enemy.  Even  those  mor- 
tally wounded  exerted  their  last  breath  to  cry,  "  For- 
ward, comrades  ! " 

Swift  as  an  arrow  had  the  great  Alva  leapt  from 
his  horse,  and,  seizing  a  partisan  from  the  stiff  hand 
of  one  of  the  slain,  he  placed  himself  before  them, 
and  cried,  "  I  will  have  part  in  your  glory  !  In  the 
name  of  God  and  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  forward, 
my  children ! " 

They  rushed  joyfully  up  the  hill,  all  hearts  reani- 
mated, and  raising  their  .war-cry  to. heaven,  while  a 
few  already  cried,  "  Victoria  !  Victoria  ! "  and  the 
Mussulmans  seemed  to  give  way.  Then,  like  the 
vision  of  an  avenging  angel,  a  maiden,  dressed  in 
richly  embroidered  garments  of  purple  and  gold, 
appeared  in  the  Turkish  ranks  ;  and  those  who  were 
terrified  before,  now  shouted,  "  Allah  ! "  and  accom- 
panied that  name  with  "  Zelinda,  Zelinda  !  "  The 
maiden  drew  a  small  box  from  beneath  her  arm  ; 
and,  after  opening  and  breathing  into  it,  threw  it 
among  the  Christian  army.  A  wild  explosion  from 
this  destructive  engine  scattered  through  the  host  a 
whole   fire  of  rockets,  grenades,  and  other  fearful 


THE  TWO   CAPTAINS.  141 

messengers  of  death.  The  astounded  troops  held 
on  through  the  storm.  "  On,  on  !  "  cried  Alva  ;  and 
"  On  !  "  echoed  the  two  captains.  But  at  that  mo- 
ment, a  flaming  bolt  fastened  on  the  duke's  high- 
plumed  cap,  and  burnt  and  crackled  about  his  head, 
so  that  the  general  fell  fainting  down  the  height. 
Then  the  Spanish  and  German  troops  were  gener- 
ally routed,  and  fled  hurriedly  from  the  fearful  height 
before  the  storm.  The  Mussulmans  again  shouted, 
and  Zelinda's  beauty  shone  over  the  conquering  host 
like  a  baleful  star. 

When  Alva  opened  his  eyes,  he  saw  Heimbert 
standing  over  him,  his  clothes,  face,  and  arms 
scorched  by  the  fire  he  had  with  much  difficulty  ex- 
tinguished on  his  commander's  head,  when  a  second 
body  of  flame  rolled  down  the  height  in  the  same 
manner.  The  duke  was  thanking  the  youth  for  his 
preservation,  when  some  soldiers  came  by,  who  told 
him  the  Saracen  power  had  commenced  an  attack 
on  the  opposite  wing  of  the  army.  Alva  threw  him 
self  on  the  first  horse  they  brought  him,  and  without 
fosing  a  word,  dashed  to  the  place  where  the  threat- 
ened danger  called  him. 

Frederigo's  glowing  eye  was  fixed  on  the  rampart 
where  the  brilliant  lady  stood,  with  her  snow-white 
arm  extended  in  the  act  of  hurling  a  two-edged 
spear;  sometimes  encouraging  the  Mussulmans  in 
Arabic,  then  again  speaking  scornfully  to  the  Chris- 
tians in  Spanish.  Don  Frederigo  exclaimed,  "  O 
foolish  lady !  she  thinks  to  daunt  me,  and  yet  places 


142  THE   TWO   CAPTAINS. 

herself  before  me,  —  so  tempting,  so  irresistible  a 
war  prize  ! " 

And,  as  if  magic  wings  had  grown  from  his  shoul- 
ders, he  began  to  fly  up  the  height  with  such  swift- 
ness, that  Alva's  storm-flight  from  thence  appeared 
a  lazy  snail's  pace.  Before  any  one  could  see  how,  he 
had  gained  the  height,  and  ^Testing  spear  and  shield 
from  the  lady,  he  seized  her  in  his  arms,  and  at- 
tempted to  bear  her  away  as  his  prize,  while  Zelinda 
clung  with  both  hands  to  the  palisade  in  anxious 
despair.  Her  cries  for  help  were  unavailing  ;  partly 
because  the  Turks  were  stupefied  with  astonishment 
to  see  the  magic  power  of  the  lady  overcome  by  the 
almost  magic  deed  of  the  youth,  and  partly  because 
the  faithful  Heimbert,  immediately  on  perceiving  his 
companion's  enterprise,  had  led  both  troops  to  his 
support,  and  now  stood  by  his  side,  fighting  hand  to 
hand  with  the  besieged.  This  time  the  fury  of  the 
Mussulmans,  overcome  as  they  were  by  surprise  and 
superstition,  availed  nothing  against  the  prowess  of 
the  Christian  soldiers. 

The  Spaniards  and  Germans  broke  through  the 
enemy,  assisted  by  fresh  squadrons  of  their  army. 
The  Mohammedans  fled  with  frightful  howling  ;  and 
the  banner  of  the  Holy  German  Empire,  and  that  of 
the  imperial  house  of  Castile,  united  by  joyful  Victo- 
rias, waved  over  the  glorious  battle-field  before  the 
walls  of  Tunis. 


v^f 

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^^m 

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^^S 

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sj^WC/H 

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^^t' 

Is^^^^ut 

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f^^ 

^'  <a^'h^.^ 

^^^gH 

^8 

^^^T 

^^S 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Ze^inda  had  escaped  from  Frederigo's  arms  in 
the  confusion  of  the  conquerors  and  conquered,  and 
flew  so  swiftly  through  the  well-known  ground,  that, 
though  love  and  desire  added  wings  to  his  feet,  she 
was  soon  out  of  sight.  This  kindle(3  the  fury  of  the 
enchanted  Spaniard  so  much  the  more  against  the 
infidel  foe.  Wherever  they  collected  their  scattered 
force  to  withstand  the  progress  of  the  Christians,  he 
hastened  with  the  troops,  which  ranged  themselves 
around  him  as  about  a  victorious  banner ;  while 
Heimbert  was  ever  at  his  side  like  a  faithful  shield, 
often  warding  off  from  his  friend  dangers  which  were 
unperceived  by  the  infatuated  youth. 

They  learnt  that  Barbarossa  had  fled  the  day 
before,  and  pushed  onwards  with  little  opposition 
through  the  gates  of  Tunis. 

Frederigo's  and  Heimbert's  troops  were  always 
together. 

Thick  clouds  of  smoke  began  to  roll  through  the 
streets,  and  the  soldiers  had  frequently  to  shake  off 
the  sparks  and  burning  fragments  which  fell  upon 
their  coats  and  richly  plumed  helmets.  "  Sup- 
pose the  enemy  has  se';  fire  to  the  powder-magazine 


144      .  THE   TWO   CAPTAINS. 

in  despair !  "  exclaimed  the  thoughtful  Heimbert 
And  Frederigo,  to  whom  a  word  or  sign  was  suffi- 
cient, hastened  to  the  spot  from  whence  the  smoke 
proceeded.     Their  troops  pressed  closely  after  them. 

A  sudden  turn  in  the  street  brought  them  upon  a 
magnificent  palace,  out  of  whose  beautifully  orna- 
mented windows  the  flames  were  already  bursting. 
Tiieir  fitful  splendor  seemed  to  make  them  like 
death -torches,  prepared  to  do  honor  to  the  costly 
building  in  the  hour  of  its  ruin,  as  they  illuminated 
first  one  part  and  then  another  of  the  massy  edifice, 
and  then  sunk- down  again  into  fearful  darkness  of 
smoke  and  vapor. 

And  like  a  faultless  statue,  the  crowning  glory  of 
the  whole,  Zelinda  stood  upon  a  giddy  projection, 
wreathed  around  with  gleaming  tongues  of  flame, 
calling  upon  the  faithful  to  assist  her  in  securing  from 
destruction  the  wisdom  of  many  centuries,  which 
was  laid  up  in  this  building.  The  pinnacle  tottered 
with  the  effects  of  the  fire  beneath,  and  a  few  stones 
gave  way.  Frederigo  anxiously  cried  to  the  en- 
dangered lady  ;  and  hardly  had  she  withdrawn  her 
lovely  foot,  when  the  whole  came  crashing  down 
on  the  pavement.  Zelinda  disappeared  within  the 
burning  palace,  and  Frederigo  rushed  up  the  marble 
steps ;  Heimbert,  his  ever-faithful  friend,  immedi- 
ately following. 

Their  swift  feet  led  them  into  a  vast  saloon,  where 
they  saw  high  arches  over  their  heads,  and  a  laby- 
rinth of  chambers  opening  one  into  another  around 


THE  TWO   CAPTAINS.  145 

them.  The  walls  were  all  ranged  with  splendid 
shelves,  in  which  were  stored  rolls  of  parchment, 
papyrus,  and  palm-leaf,  inscribed  with  the  long- 
forgotten  characters  of  past  ages,  which  had  now 
reached  the  end  of  their  designs  ;  for  the  flames 
were  creeping  in  destruction  among  them,  and 
stretched  their  serpent-like  heads  from  one  repos- 
itory of  learning  to  another ;  while  the  Spanish  sol- 
diers, who  had  hoped  for  plunder,  were  enraged  at 
finding  this  mighty  building  filled  only  with  these 
parchments,  and  the  more  so,  because  they  discerned 
in  them  nothing  but  what  appeared  to  them  magical 
characters. 

Frederigo  flew,  as  in  a  dream,  through  the  strange 
halls,  now  half  consumed,  ever  calling  Zelinda  ;  not 
thinking  or  caring  for  any  thing  but  his  enchanting 
beauty.  Long  did  Heimbert  remain  at  his  side,  till 
they  reached  a  cedar  staircase  which  led  to  a  higher 
story,  where  Frederigo  listened  a  moment,  and  then 
said :  "  She  is  speaking  there  aloud  !  she  needs  my 
help !  "  and  sprung  up  the  glowing  steps.  Heimbert 
hesitated  an  instant,  for  he  saw  them  giving  way, 
and  thought  to  warn  his  companion  ;  but  at  that 
moment  they  broke  down,  and  left  nothing  but  a 
fiery  path.  Still  he  coukl  see  that  Frederigo  had 
clung  to  an  iron  grating,  over  which  he  soon  swung 
himself.  The  way  was  inaccessible  to  Heimbert: 
quickly  recollecting  himself,  he  lost  no  time  in  idly 
gazing,  but  hastily  sought  another  flight  of  stairs  in 


10 


146  THE   TWO   CAPTAINS. 

the  neighboring  halls,  which  would  conduct  him  to 
his  friend. 

Meanwhile  Frederigo,  following  the  enchanting 
voice,  had  reached  a  gallery,  in  the  midst  of  which 
was  a  fearful  abyss  of  flames,  while  the  pillars  on 
each  side  were  yet  standing.  He  soon  perceived  the 
lovely  figure  of  Zelinda,  who  clung  to  a  pillar  with 
one  hand,  while  with  the  other  she  threatened  some 
Spanish  soldiers,  who  seemed  every  moment  about 
to  seize  her,  and  already  had  her  delicate  foot  ad- 
vanced to  the  edge  of  the  glowing  gulf.  It  was  im- 
possible for  Frederigo  to  join  her,  for  the  breadth 
of  the  separating  flames  was  far  too  great  to  spring 
across.  Trembling  lest  his  voice  should  make  the 
maiden,  through  either  terror  or  anger,  precipitate 
herself  into  the  abyss,  he  spoke  quite  softly  over  the 
fiery  grave :  "  Ah,  Zelinda !  have  no  such  frightful 
thoughts  ;  your  preserver  is  here  !  "  The  maiden 
bowed  her  queenly  head.  And  when  Frederigo  saw 
her  so  calm  and  composed,  he  cried  with  all  the 
thunder  of  a  warriors  voice,  "  Back !  you  rash  plun- 
derers! whoever  advances  one  step  nearer  to  that 
lady,  shall  feel  the  weight  of  my  anger ! "  They 
started,  and  appeared  willing  to  retire,  till  one  among 
them  said,  "  The  knight  can  do  us  no  harm  —  the 
gulf  is  a  little  too  broad  for  that ;  and  as  for  the 
lady's  throwing  herself  in,  it  is  evident  that  the  young 
knight  is  her  lover  ;  and  whoever  has  a  lover  is  not 
so  inclined  to  throw  herself  away."  At  this  they 
laughed,  and  again  advanced.     Zelinda  neared  the 


THE  V  viNS  147 

flaming  edge  ;  but  Frederiga  with  the  fury  of  a  lion, 
had  torn  his  tt\rget  from  his  arm,  and  now  flung  it 
across  with  so  sure  an  aim,  that  the  rash  leader  fell 
senseless  to  the  gnnrnd.  The  rest  again  stood  still, 
**  Away  with  you !  **  cried  Frederigo»  authoritatively, 
"  or  my  dagger  shall  strike  the  next  as  surely ;  nor 
will  I  ever  rest  till  I  have  found  you  out,  and  made 
you  feel  the  lorce  of  my  vengeance,**  The  dagger 
gleamed  in  the  youth's  hand,  and  yet  more  fearfully 
gleamed  the  rag^  in  his  eyes.  The  soldiers  fled. 
Then  Zeliuda  bowed  courteously  to  her  preserver; 
and  taking  a  roll  of  palm-leaves  which  lay  at  her 
feet,  she  hastily  disappeared  at  a  side  door  of  the 
gallery.  In  vain  did  Frcderigo  seek  her  in  the  burn- 
ing palace. 

The  great  Alva  held  a  council  with  his  officers  in 
an  open  place  in  the  midst  of  the  conquered  city, 
and,  by  means  of  an  interpreter,  questioned  the 
Moorish  prisoners  what  had  become  of  the  beautiful 
enchantress  who  had  been  seen  encouraging  them  on 
the  walls,  and  who,  he  said,  was  the  most  lovely  sor- 
ceress the  world  ever  si\w.  Nothing  could  be  gained 
lh>m  tlie  answers;  for  though  all  knew  her  to  be 
a  noble  lady,  well  vereed  in  niagic  lore,  none  seemed 
able  to  tell  fron\  whence  she  had  entered  Timis,  or 
whither  she  had  now  fled.  At  last,  when  tliey  had  be- 
gun to  think  their  ignorance  was  the  pretense  of  ob- 
stinacy, an  old  dervish,  who  had  been  hitherto  unno- 
ticed, pressed  forward,  and  said,  with  a  scornful  smile, 
**  Whoever  wishes  to  seek  the  lady,  the  way  is  open 


148  THE  TWO   CAPTAINS. 

for  him.  I  will  not  conceal  what  I  know  of  her 
destination ;  and  I  do  know  something.  Only  you 
must  first  promise  me  I  shall  not  be  compelled  to 
guide  any  one  to  her,  or  my  lips  shall  remain  closed 
forever ;  and  you  may  do  what  you  will  with  me." 
He  looked  like  one  who  would  keep  his  word ;  and 
Alva,  who  was  pleased  with  the  man's  resolute  spirit 
(so  akin  to  his  own),  gave  him  the  desired  assurance. 
The  dervish  began  his  relation. 

He  was  once,  he  said,  wandering  in  the  endless 
desert  of  Sahara —  perhaps  from  empty  curiosity,  and 
perhaps  for  a  better  reason.  He  lost  his  way ;  and 
at  last,  when  wearied  to  death,  he  reached  one  of 
those  fruit-bearing  islands  which  they  call  an  oasis. 
Now  followed  a  description  of  the  things  he  saw 
there,  clothed  in  all  the  warmth  of  oriental  imagery ; 
so  that  the  hearts  of  his  hearers  sometimes  melted 
within  them,  and  sometimes  their  hair  stood  on  end 
at  the  horrors  he  related ;  though,  from  the  strange 
pronunciation  of  the  speaker,  and  from  his  hurried 
way  of  speaking,  they  could  hardly  understand  half 
he  said.  The  end  of  all  was,  that  Zelinda  dwelt 
upon  this  blooming  island,  surrounded  on  all  sides 
by  the  pathless  desert,  and  protected  by  magic  ter- 
rors. On  her  way  thither,  as  the  old  dervish  very 
well  knew,  she  had  left  the  city  half  an  hour  before. 
The  contemptuous  words  with  which  he  closed  his 
speech  showed  plainly  that  he  desired  nothing  more 
than  that  some  Christian  would  undertake  the  jour 
ney,  which  would  inevitably  lead  him  to  destruction. 


THE  TWO   CAPTAINS.  149 

At  the  same  time  he  solemnly  affirmed  he  had  ut- 
tered nothing  but  undoubted  truth,  as  a  man  would 
do  who  knows  that  things  are  just  as  he  related 
them.  Thoughtful  and  astonished  were  the  circle  of 
officers  around  him. 

Heimbert  had  just  joined  the  party,  after  seeking 
his  friend  in  the  burning  palace,  and  collecting  and 
ai  ranging  their  troops  in  such  a  manner  as  to  pre- 
vent the  possibility  of  any  surprise  from  the  robber- 
hordes.  He  now  advanced  before  Alva,  and  humbly 
bowed. 

"What  wilt  thou,  my  young  hero?"  said  Alva, 
greeting  the  young  captain  in  the  most  friendly  man- 
ner. "  I  know  your  smiling,  blooming  countenance 
well.  The  last  time  I  saw  you,  you  stood  like  a  pro- 
tecting angel  over  me.  I  am  so  sure  that  you  can 
make  no  request  but  what  is  knightly  and  honorable, 
that  I  grant  it,  whatever  it  may  be." 

"  My  gracious  general,"  said  Heimbert,  whose 
cheeks  glowed  at  this  praise,  "  if  I  may  venture  to 
ask  a  favor,  it  is,  that  you  will  give  me  permission 
to  follow  the  lady  Zelinda  in  the  way  this  strange 
dervish  has  pointed  out." 

The  great  general  bowed  assentingly,  and  added  ; 
"  To  a  more  noble  knight  could  not  this  honorable 
adventure  be  consigned." 

"  I  do  not  know  that,"  said  an  angry  voice  in  the 
crowd  ;  "  but  this  I  do  know,  that  to  me,  above  all 
Dtlier  men,  this  adventure  belongs,  as  a  reward  for 
the  capture  of  Tunis.  For  who  was  the  first  on  the 
beight  and  in  the  city  ?  " 


150  THE   TWO    CAPTAINS. 

"  That  was  Don  Frederigo  JMendez,"  said  Ileiin 
bert,  taking  the  speaker  by  the  hand,  and  leading 
him  before  Alva.     "  In  his  favor  I  will  willingly  re- 
sign my  reward ;  for  he  has  done  the  emperor  and 
the  army  better  service  than  I  have." 

"  Neither  of  you  shall  lose  his  reward,"  said  Alva. 
"Each  has  now  permission  to  seek  the  maiden  in 
whatever  way  he  thinks  best." 

Swift  as  lightning  the  two  young  captains  escaped 
from  the  circle  on  opposite  sides. 


^^^^^p 

B 

^^W^^rmk 

CHAPTER  V. 

Like  a  vast  trackless  sea,  without  one  object 
to  break  the  dreary  monotony  of  its  horizon,  ever 
white  and  ever  desolate,  the  great  desert  of  Sahara 
stretches  itself  before  the  eyes  of  the  unhappy  wan- 
derer who  has  lost  himself  in  this  frightful  region. 
And,  in  another  way,  it  resembles  the  ocean.  It 
throws  up  waves  ;  and  often  a  burning  mist  is  seen  on 
its  surface.  Not,  indeed,  the  gentle  play  of  the  waves 
which  unite  all  tlie  coasts  of  the  earth  ;  where  each 
wave,  as  it  rolls  onward,  brings  you  a  message  of 
love  from  the  far  island-kingdoms,  and  carries  your 
answer  with  it  in  a  love-flowing  dance.  These  waves 
are  only  the  wild  toying  of  the  hot  wind  with  the 
faithless  dust,  which  always  falls  back  again  upon 
its  joyless  plain,  and  never  reaches  the  solid  land, 
where  happy  men  dwell.  It  is  not  the  lovely  cool 
sea-breeze  in  which  the  friendly  fays  sport  them 
selves,  and  form  their  blooming  gardens  and  stately 
grottoes  :  it  is  the  suffocating  vapor  rebelliously 
given  back  to  the  glowing  sun  by  the  unfruitful 
sands. 

Hither  the  two  captains  arrived  at  the  same  time, 
and  stood  struck  with  astonishment  at  the  pathless 


152  THE  TWO   CAPTAINS. 

chaos  before  them.  Traces  of  Zelinda,  which  were 
not  easily  hidden,  had  hitherto  compelled  them  to 
travel  almost  always  together,  however  displeased 
Frederigo  might  be,  and  whatever  angry  glances  he 
cast  upon  his  unwelcome  companion.  Each  had 
hoped  to  overtake  Zelinda  before  she  reached  the 
desert,  well  knowing  how  almost  impossible  it  would 
be  to  find  her,  if  she  had  once  entered  it.  And  now 
they  had  failed  in  this,  and  could  obtain  no  further 
information  from  the  few  yirabs  they  met,  than  that 
there  existed  a  tradition  that  any  one  who  would 
travel  in  a  southerly  direction,  guiding  his  course  by 
the  stars,  would,  the  sages  maintained,  arrive  at  a 
wonderfully  blooming  oasis,  the  dwelling  of  a  heav- 
enly beautiful  enchantress.  But  all  this  appeared  to 
the  speakers  to  be  highly  uncertain  and  mysterious. 

The  young  men  looked  troubled;  and  their  horses 
snorted  and  started  back  at  the  treacherous  sand, 
while  even  the  riders  were  uneasy  and  perplexed. 
Then  they  sprang  from  tlieir  saddles  suddenly,  as  at 
some  word  of  command  ;  and  taking  the  bridles  from 
their  horses,  and  slackenitig  the  girths,  they  turned 
them  loose  on  the  plain,  to  find  their  way  back  to 
the  habitation  of  man.  They  took  some  provision 
from  their  saddle-bags,  placed  it  on  their  shoulders, 
and,  casting  from  their  feet  their  heavy  riding-boots, 
they  plunged,  like  two  courageous  swimmers,  into 
the  endless  waste. 

With  no  otfeer  guide  than  the  sun  by  day,  and  by 
night  the  host  of  stars,  the  two  captains  soon  lost 


THE   TWO   CAPTAINS.  153 

sight  of  one  another ;  for  Frederigo  had  avoided  the 
object  of  his  displeasure  ;  while  Heimbert,  thinking 
of  nothing  but  the  end  of  his  journey,  and  firmly 
relying  upon  God's  protection,  pursued  his  course  in 
a  due  southerly  direction. 

The  night  had  many  times  succeeded  the  day, 
when,  one  evening,  Heimbert  was  quite  alone  on  the 
endless  desert,  without  one  fixed  object  for  his  eye  to 
rest  upon  ;  the  light  flask  he  carried  was  empty  ;  and 
the  evening  brought  with  it,  instead  of  the  desired 
coolness,  only  suffocating  columns  of  sand;  so  that  the 
exhausted  wanderer  was  obliged  to  press  his  burn- 
ing face  to  the  scorching  plain  to  escape  the  death- 
bringing  cloud.  Sometimes  he  thought  he  heard 
footsteps  near  him,  and  the  sound  of  a  wide  mantle 
rustling  over  him ;  but  when  he  raised  himself  with 
anxious  haste,  he  only  saw  what  he  had  already  too 
often  seen  in  the  daytime  —  the  wild  beasts  of  the 
wilderness  roaming  about  the  desert  in  undisturbed 
freedom.  Now  it  was  a  frightful  camel,  then  a  long- 
necked  ungainly  giraffe,  or  a  great  ostrich  with  it> 
wings  outspread.  They  all  appeared  to  scoff  at  him 
and  he  resolved  to  open  his  eyes  no  more,  but  rathe) 
perish,  without  allowing  these  hateful  and  strange 
creatures  to  disturb  his  soul  in  the  hour  of  death. 

Soon  he  heard  the  sound  of  horse's  hoofs  and  neigh 
ing,  and  saw  a  shadow  on  the  sand,  and  heard  a  man's 
voice  close  to  him.  Half  unwilling,  he  yet  could 
not  resist  raising  himself  wearily  ;  when  he  saw  a 
rider  in  an  Arab's  dress  on  a  slender  Arabian  horse. 


164  THE  TWO   CAPTAINS. 

Overcome  with  joy  at  the  sight  of  a  human  being, 
he  exclaimed :  "  Welcome,  0  man,  in  this  frightful 
waste!  and  succor,  if  thou  canst,  thy  fellow-man, 
who  must  otherwise  perish  with  thirst."  And  then 
remembering  that  the  tones  of  his  dear  German 
mother-tongue  were  not  intelligible  in  this  joyless 
land,  he  repeated  these  words  in  that  common  lan- 
guage, the  lingua  Romana,  which  is  universally  used 
by  Mohammedans  and  Christians  in  this  part  of  the 
world. 

The  Arab  was  silent  some  time,  and  looked  with 
scorn  upon  his  strange  discovery.  At  last  he  replied 
in  the  same  language  :  "  I  was  in  Barbarossa's  fight, 
sir  knight,  as  well  as  you;  and  if  our  overthrow 
affected  me  bitterly,  I  now  find  no  little  satisfaction 
at  seeing  one  of  our  conquerors  lying  so  pitifully 
before  me." 

"  Pitifully  !  "  angrily  repeated  Ileimbert ;  and  his 
wounded  feelings  of  honor  for  the  moment  giving 
him  back  all  his  strength,  he  seized  his  sword,  and 
stood  in  battle  order. 

"  Oh,  oh  !  "  laughed  the  Arab  ;  "  is  the  Christian 
viper  so  strong  ?  Then  it  only  remains  for  me  to  put 
spurs  to  my  good  steed,  and  leave  thee  to  perish 
here,  thou  lost,  creeping  worm." 

"  Ride  where  thou  list,  dog  of  a  heathen  !  "  retorted 
Heimbert.  "  Before  I  accept  a  crumb  from  thee,  1 
will  perish,  unless  the  dear  God  sends  me  manna  in 
this  wilderness." 

The  Arab  spurred  his  fleet   horse,  and   galloped 


THE   TWO   CAPTAINS.  155 

two  hundred  paces,  laughing  long  and  loud.  Ho 
stopped,  however,  and  trotting  back  to  Heimbert, 
said  :  "  Thou  art  rather  too  good  a  knight  to  leave 
to  die  of  hunger  and  thirst.  Have  a  care,  now :  my 
good  sabre  shall  reach  thee." 

Heimbert,  who  had  again  stretched  himself  in 
hopeless  despair  on  the  burning  sand,  was  quickly 
roused  by  these  words  to  his  feet,  sword  in  hand  ; 
and  as  the  Arab's  horse  flew  past  him,  with  a  sudden 
spring  the  stout  German  avoided  the  blow,  and  par- 
ried the  cut  which  the  rider  aimed  at  him  with  his 
Turkish  cimeter. 

Repeatedly  did  the  Arab  make  similar  attacks, 
vainly  hoping  to  give  his  antagonist  the  death-blow. 
At  last,  overcome  by  impatience,  he  came  so  near, 
that  Heimbert  was  able  to  seize  him  by  the  girdle 
and  tear  him  from  the  fast-galloping  horse.  With 
this  violent  exertion,  Heimbert  also  fell  to  the 
ground,  but  he  lay  above  his  adversary  ;  and  holding 
a  dagger  he  had  pulled  from  his  girdle  before  his 
face,  he  said  :  "  Wilt  thou  have  mercy  or  death  ?  " 

The  Arab  closed  his  eyes  before  the  murderous 
steel,  and  answered  :  "  Have  pity  on  me,  thou  brave 
warrior  !     I  surrender  to  thee." 

Heimbert  commanded  him  to  throw  away  the  sa- 
bre he  still  held  in  his  right  hand.  He  did  so  ;  and 
both  combatants  rose  from  the  ground,  to  sink  again 
immediately  upon  the  sand  ;  for  the  conqueror  felt 
himself  far  weaker  than  the  conquered. 

The  Arab's  good  horse  had  returned  to  his  master, 


156  THE   TWO   CAPTAINS. 

as  is  the  custom  of  those  noble  aniiriaiS,  who  nevei' 
forsake  even  a  fallen  lord,  and  now  stood  behind 
them,  stretching  his  long  slender  neck  over  them 
with  a  friendly  look. 

"  Arab,"  said  Heimbert,  with  exhausted  voice, 
"  take  from  thy  horse  what  provision  thou  hast,  and 
place  it  before  me." 

The  subdued  Arab  did  humbly  what  was  com- 
manded him,  now  submitting  to  the  will  of  his  con- 
queror, as  he  had  before  treated  him  with  revengeful 
anger. 

After  taking  some  draughts  of  palm-wine  from 
the  skin,  Heimbert  looked  at  the  youth  with  new 
eyes.  He  partook  of  some  fruits,  drank  again  of 
the  wine,  and  said,  "  Have  you  much  further  to  ride 
this  night,  young  man  ?  " 

"Yes,  indeed,"  answ^ered  the  Arab,  sorrowfully. 
"  Upon  a  very  distant  oasis  dwells  my  aged  father 
and  my  blooming  bride.  Now,  even  if  you  leave  me 
my  freedom,  I  must  perish  in  this  waste  desert 
before  I  can  reach  my  lovely  home." 

"  Is  that  the  oasis,"  asked  Heimbert,  "  on  which 
the  powerful  magic  lady,  Zelindu,  dwells  ?  " 

"  Allah  forbid  !  "  exclaimed  the  Arab,  clasping  his 
hands  together.  "  Zelinda's  wondrous  island  receives 
none  but  magicians,  and  lies  far  to  the  scorching 
t>outh  ;  while  our  friendly  home  stretches  towards 
the  cooler  west." 

"  I  only  asked  the  question  to  see  if  we  could  be 
companions   by   the   way,"  said   Heimbert,    kindly. 


TFIE  TWO   CAPTAINS.  157 

^*  As  that  cannot  be,  we  must  divide  everything ;  for 
I  would  not  have  so  good  a  soldier  perish  with  hun- 
ger and  thirst." 

Saying  this,  the  young  captain  began  to  divide  the 
fruits  and  wine  into  two  portions,  placing  the  greater 
at  his  left  hand,  the  smaller  at  his  right,  and  desired 
the  Arab  to  take  the  former.  He  listened  with  as- 
tonishment as  Heinibert  added  :  "  See,  good  sir,  I 
have  either  not  much  fiu'ther  to  pursue  my  journey, 
or  I  shall  die  in  this  desert ;  of  that  I  have  a  strong 
presentiment.  Besides,  T  cannot  carry  so  much  on 
foot  as  you  can  on  horseback." 

"  Knight !  victorious  knight !  "  cried  the  amazed 
Mussulman,  '■  do  you  give  me  my  horse  ?  " 

"  It  would  be  a  sin  and  shame  to  deprive  so  noble 
a  rider  of  such  a  faithful  beast,"  replied  Heimbert, 
smiling.  "  Ride  on,  in  God's  name  !  and  may  you 
safely  reach  your  destination." 

He  assisted  him  to  mount ;  and  just  as  the  Arab 
was  thanking  him,  he  suddenly  exclaimed,  "  The 
magic  lady  ! "  and,  putting  spurs  to  his  horse,  flew 
over  the  dusty  plain  swift  as  the  wind  ;  while  Heim- 
bert, on  looking  round,  saw  close  beside  him,  in  the 
bright  moonlight,  a  shining  figure,  which  he  easily 
recognized  to  be  Zelinda. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

The  lady  looked  fixedly  at  the  young  soldier,  and 
appeared  thinking  how  she  should  address  him,  while 
he,  with  astonishment  at  suddenly  finding  her  he  had 
so  long  sought,  was  equally  at  a  loss  for  words.  At 
length  she  said  in  Spanish,  "  Thou  wonderful  enig- 
ma, I  have  been  witness  to  all  that  has  passed  be- 
tween thee  and  the  Arab  ;  and  the  affair  perplexes 
my  head  as  a  whirlwind.  Tell  me  plainly,  that  I 
may  know  whether  thou  art  a  madman  or  an  angel." 

"  I  am  neither  one  or  other,  dear  lady,"  answered 
Heimbert,  with  his  wonted  friendliness.  "  I  am  only 
a  poor  wanderer,  who  have  been  obeying  one  of  the 
commands  of  his  dear  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 

"  Sit  down,"  said  Zelinda,  •'  and  relate  to  me  the 
history  of  thy  lord,  who  must  be  an  unheard-of  per- 
son, if  he  has  such  servants  as  thee.  The  night  is 
cool  and  still,  and  beside  me  thou  hast  nothing  to 
fear  from  the  dangers  of  the  waste." 

"  Lady,"  replied  Heimbert,  smiling,  "  I  am  not  of 
a  fearful  disposition,  and  when  I  am  speaking  of  my 
blessed  Lord  and  Redeemer,  I  know  not  the  least 
anxiety." 

So  saying,  they  both  sat  down  on  the  now  cooled 


THE   TWO    CAPTAINS.  If) 9 

sand,  and  began  a  wondrous  conversation,  while  the 
clear  moon  shone  upon  them  like  a  magic  lamp  from 
the  high  blue  heavens.  Heimbert's  words,  full  of 
love,  and  truth,  and  simplicity,  sank  like  soft  sun- 
beams into  Zelinda's  heart,  driving  away  the  unholy 
magic  power  which  ruled  her,  and  wrestling  with 
that  for  possession  of  the  noble  territory  of  her  soul. 
When  the  morning  dawned,  she  said,  "  ITiou  wouldst 
not  be  called  an  angel,  but  surely  thou  art  one  ;  for 
what  are  the  angels  but  messengers  of  the  most  high 
God?" 

"  In  that  sense,"  returned  Heimbert,  "  I  am  con- 
tent to  be  so  called.*  My  hope  is.  to  bear  His  mes- 
sage at  all  times  ;  and  if  He  bestows  further  grace 
and  strength  upon  me,  it  will  give  me  pleasure  if  you 
become  my  companion  in  this  pious  work." 

"  That  is  not  impossible,"  said  Zelinda,  thought- 
fully. "  But  first  come  with  me  to  my  island,  where 
thou  shalt  be  entertained  as  beseems  such  an  ambas- 
sador, far  better  than  here  on  the  desert  sand,  with 
miserable  palm-wine,  which  thou  must  obtain  with 
difficulty." 

"  Pardon  me,"  answered  Heimbert ;  "  it  is  difficult 
to  refuse  a  lady  any  request,  but  it  is  unavoidable  on 
this  occasion.  In  your  island,  many  glorious  things 
are  brought  together  by  forbidden  arts,  and  their 
forms  are  changed  from  those  the  Almighty  One 
created.  These  might  dazzle  my  senses,  and  in  the 
end  enslave  them.  If  you  wish  to  hear  more  of  those 
best  and  purest  things  which  I  can  relate  to  you,  you 


160  THE  TWO  CAPTAINS. 

must  come  out  to  me  on  this  barren  sanf^  The 
Arab's  dates  and  pahii-wine  will  suffice  for  many  a 
day  yet." 

"  You  would  do  much  better  to  come  with  me," 
said  Zelinda,  shaking  her  head  with  a  dissatisfied 
smile.  "  You  were  surely  neither  born  nor  educated 
for  a  hermit,  and  there  is  nothing  upon  my  oasis  so 
very  mysterious  as  you  suppose.  What  is  there  so 
strange  in  birds,  and  beasts,  and  flowers,  being  col- 
lected together  from  different  parts  of  the  world,  and 
perhaps  a  little  changed,  so  that  one  partakes  of  the 
nature  of  another,  as  you  must  have  seen  in  our 
Arabian  pictures?  A  moving,  changing  flower,  a 
bird  growing  on  a  branch,  a  fountain  emitting  fiery 
sparks,  a  singing  bough  —  these  truly  are  not  such 
frightful,  hateful  things  ?  " 

"  He  must  avoid  temptation,  who  will  not  be  over- 
come by  it,"  answered  Heimbert,  very  gravely.  "  I 
shall  remain  in  the  wilderness :  is  it  your  pleasure 
to  visit  me  here  again  ?  " 

Zelinda  looked  down,  somewhat  displeased ;  then 
lowly  bending  her  head,  she  answered,  "  Yes ;  to- 
morrow evening  I  will  be  here."  She  turned  away, 
and  immediately  disappeared  in  the  rising  storm- 
blast  of  the  desert. 

With  the  return  of  ever.ing  the  lovely  lady  ap- 
peared, and  watched  the  night  through  in  holy  con- 
verse with  the  inspired  youth,  leaving  him  in  the 
morning  humbler,  purer,  and  more  pious ;  and  this 
went  on   for   several   days.     "  Thy   palm-wine   and 


THE  TWO   CAPTAINS.  161 

dates  must  be  consumed,"  said  Zeliuda  one  evening; 
and  placed  before  Heimbert  a  flask  of  rich  wine  and 
some  costly  fruits.  He,  however,  softly  put  the  gifts 
aside,  and  answered,  "  Noble  lady,  I  thank  you  from 
my  heart,  but  I  fear  these  have  been  made  by  your 
magic  arts ;  or  could  you  assure  me  that  they  are 
not,  by  Him  whom  you  are  beginning  to  know  ?  " 
Zelinda's  eyes  sank  in  silent  confusion,  and  she  took 
back  her  gifts.  The  next  evening  she  brought  some 
similar  provisions,  and,  smiling  confidently,  gave  the 
desired  assurance.  Then  Heimbert  partook  of  them 
without  scruple  ;  and  henceforth  the  pupil  hospitably 
provided  for  the  sustenance  of  her  teacher  in  the 
wilderness. 

And  now,  as  the  knowledge  of  the  truth  sank 
more  deeply  in  Zelinda's  soul,  so  that  she  often  sat 
till  morning  listening  to  the  young  man  with  glow- 
ing cheeks,  flowing  hair,  sparkling  eyes,  and  folded 
hands,  he  carefully  observed  to  make  her  understand 
that  it  was  on  account  of  his  friend  he  had  sought 
her  in  this  dreary  region,  and  that  it  was  Frederigo's 
love  for  her  which  was  the  means  of  the  highest 
good  to  her  soul.  She  well  remembered  the  hand- 
some, fearless  young  captain  who  had  stormed  the 
height  and  clasped  her  in  his  arms,  and  related  to 
their  friend  how  he  had  saved  her  in  the  burning 
library.  Heimbert  had  many  pleasant  things  to 
say  of  Frederigo  ;  of  his  knightly  deeds,  his  serious 
mind,  and  of  his  love  to  Zelinda,  which,  since  the 
capture  of  Tunis,  would  not  be  hidden  within  his 
U 


162  THE   TWO   CAPTAINS. 

troubled  breast,  but  betrayed  itself  in  a  thousand 
ways,  sleeping  or  waking,  to  the  young  German. 
The  godly  truth,  and  the  image  of  her  loving  hero, 
entered  Zelinda's  heart  together,  and  both  took  root 
there.  Heimbert's  presence,  and  the  almost  adoring 
admiration  with  which  his  pupil  regarded  him,  did 
not  disturb  this  state  of  mind ;  for  from  the  first 
moment,  his  appearance  had  something  too  pure  and 
heavenly  to  allow  of  any  thoughts  of  earthly  love. 

When  Heimbert  was  alone,  he  often  smiled  to 
himself  and  said  in  his  own  beloved  German  lan- 
guage, "  How  delightful  it  is  to  be  able,  consciously, 
to  repay  Frederigo  the  service  he  did  me,  uncon- 
sciously, with  his  angelic  sister !  "  Then  he  would 
sing  such  lovely  German  songs  of  Clara's  beauty  and 
pious  grace,  as  sounded  strangely  pleasant  in  the 
wilderness,  and  beguiled  his  long  and  lonely  hours. 

As  once  Zelinda  came  in  the  evening  light,  her 
steps  airy  and  graceful,  and  carrying  a  basket  of  food 
for  Heimbert  on  her  lovely  head,  he  smiled  and 
shook  his  head,  saying,  "  It  is  quite  incomprehensible 
to  me,  lovely  maiden,  why  you  continue  to  come  to  me 
in  this  waste.  You  cannot  find  pleasure  in  magic 
arts,  now  that  the  spirit  of  truth  and  love  dwells 
within  you ;  and  if  you  changed  all  things  in  your 
oasis  into  the  natural  forms  which  the  merciful  God 
gave  them,  I  could  go  thither  with  you,  and  we  should 
have  much  more  time  for  holy  converse." 

"  Sir  knight,"  answered  Zelinda,  "  you  speak  truly, 
and  I  have  thought  of  doing  what  you  sav  for  many 


THE   TWO   CAPTAINS.  163 

days,  but  a  strange  visitor  deprives  me  of  the  power. 
The  dervish  whom  you  saw  in  Tunis,  is  with  me ; 
and  because  in  past  days  we  have  performed  many 
magic  works  together,  he  thinks  to  usurp  his  former 
authority  over  me  now.  He  perceives  the  alteration 
in  me,  and  on  that  account  is  the  more  importunate." 

"  We  must  either  expel  or  convert  him,"  said 
Heimbert,  girding  on  his  sword,  and  taking  up  his 
shield  from  the  ground.  "  Lead  me,  dear  lady,  to 
your  wonderful  island." 

"  You  avoided  it  before,"  answered  the  astonished 
damsel,  "  and  it  still  remains  quite  unchanged." 

"  Formerly  it  would  have  been  only  rashness  to 
venture,"  returned  Heimbert.  "  You  came  out  to 
me  here,  which  was  better  for  us  both.  Now,  how- 
ever, the  old  serpent  might  destroy  in  you  the  work 
the  Lord  has  done,  and  it  is  therefore  a  knightly 
duty  to  go.  In  God's  name,  then,  to  the  work."  And 
they  hastened  together  across  the  darkening  plain  to 
the  blooming  island. 

Magic  airs  began  to  play  about  their  heads,  and 
bright  stars  sparkled  from  the  waving  boughs  beside 
their  path.  Heimbert  fixed  his  eyes  on  the  ground, 
and  said,  "  Go  before  me,  lovely  lady,  and  guide  me 
at  once  to  the  place  where  I  shall  find  the  dervish, 
for  I  will  see  as  little  of  these  distracting  magic 
forms  as  is  possible." 

Zelinda  did  as  he  desired ;  and  so,  for  the  moment, 
each  performed  the  other's  part.  The  maiden  was 
the  guide,  while  Heimbert  folio w^ed,  with  confiding 
rriendliness,  in  the  unknown  path. 


164  THE   TWO    CAPTAINS. 

Branches  stooped  as  if  to  caress  their  cheeks 
wonderful  singing-birds  grew  from  the  bushes 
golden  and  green  serpents,  with  little  golden  crowns, 
crept  on  the  velvet-turf,  on  which  Heimbert  stead 
fastly  bent  his  eyes,  and  brilliant  stones  gleamed  from 
the  moss.  When  the  serpents  touched  these  jewels, 
they  gave  forth  a  silvery  sound.  The  soldier  let  the 
serpents  creep,  and  the  precious  stones  sparkle, 
without  caring  for  anything  save  to  follow  hastily  the 
footsteps  of  his  guide. 

"  We  are  at  the  place,"  said  she,  with  suppressed 
voice ;  and  looking  up,  he  saw  a  shining  grotto  of 
shells,  and  perceived  within  a  man  asleep,  clad  in  a 
complete  suit  of  gold  scale-armor,  of  the  old  Nu- 
midian  fashion. 

"  Is  that  also  a  phantom,  in  golden  scales?  "  asked 
Heimbert,  smiling. 

"  Oh,  no,"  answered  Zelinda,  very  gravely,  "  it  is 
the  dervish  himself;  and  I  see,  from  his  having 
clothed  himself  in  that  coat  of  mail,  which  has  been 
made  invulnerable  by  being  dipped  in  dragon's 
blood,  that  he  has,  by  his  magic,  made  himself  aware 
of  our  intentions. " 

"  What  does  that  signify  ?  "  said  Heimbert ;  "  he 
must  know  them  at  last."  And  he  began  to  call 
with  cheerful  voice, "  Awake,  old  man  !  awake  !  here 
is  an  acquaintance  of  yours,  to  whom  you  must 
?peak." 

As  the  dervish  opened  his  great  rolling  eyes,  all 
the  wondrous   things  in  this  magic  region  began  to 


THE   TWO   CAPTAINS.  IB") 

move  :  the  water  to  dance,  the  branches  to  strike 
one  another  in  wild  confusion,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
the  jewels,  and  corals,  and  shells  gave  forth  strange 
perplexing  melodies. 

"  Roll  and  turn,  thunder  and  play,  as  you  will," 
cried  Heimbert,  looking  steadfastly  around  him,  "you 
shall  not  turn  me  from  my  good  purpose  ;  and  to 
overpower  all  this  tumult,  God  has  given  me  a  strong 
far-sounding  soldier's  voice."  Then  he  turned  to  the 
dervish,  saying,  "  It  appears,  old  man,  that  you  al- 
ready know  what  has  passed  between  Zelinda  and 
me.  If  you  do  not  know  the  whole  matter,  I  will 
tell  you,  in  a  few  words,  that  already  she  is  as  good 
as  a  Christian,  and  the  bride  of  a  noble  Spanish 
knight.  For  your  own  sake,  do  not  put  any  hin- 
drance in  the  way  ;  but  it  would  be  far  better  for 
you,  if  you  would  also  become  a  Christian.  Talk  to 
me  of  this,  and  command  all  these  deviltries  to  cease  ; 
for  see,  dear  sir,  our  religion  speaks  of  such  divine 
and  heavenly  things,  that  one  must  lay  aside  all 
rough  and  violent  passions." 

But  the  dervish,  whose  hatred  glowed  towards  all 
Christians,  hardly  waited  to  hear  the  knight's  last 
words  before  he  pressed  upon  him  with  drawn  cime- 
ter.  Heimbert  put  aside  his  thrust,  saying,  "  Take 
care  of  yourself,  sir :  I  have  heard  that  your  weapons 
are  charmed  ;  but  that  avails  nought  before  my  good 
sword,  which  has  been  consecrated  in  holy  places." 
The  dervish  recoiled  from  the  sword  wildly,  but  as 
wildly  sprang  to  the   other  side  of  his   adversary, 


166  THE  TWO   CAPTAINS. 

who  only  caught  the  deadly  cuts,  with  his  target. 
Like  a  golden  scaly  dragon,  the  Mohammedan  swung 
himself  round  Heimbert,  with  a  ferocity  which,  with 
his  long  flowing  white  beard,  had  something  ghastly 
and  horrible  in  it.  Heimbert  was  prepared  to  op- 
pose him  on  all  sides,  only  watching  carefully  for 
some  opening  in  the  scales  made  by  his  violent 
movements.  At  last  it  happened  as  he  expected  : 
he  saw,  between  the  breast  and  arm,  the  d^rk  gar- 
ments of  the  dervish,  and  there  the  German  made  his 
deadly  thrust.  The  old  man  cried,  "  Allah  !  Allah  ! " 
and  fell,  fearful  even  in  his  fall,  senseless  to  the 
ground. 

"  Yet  I  pity  him,"  sighed  Heimbert,  leaning  on  his 
sword,  and  looking  down  on  his  fallen  foe ;  "  he 
fought  nobly,  and  in  his  death  he  called  upon  his 
Allah,  whom  he  believes  to  be  the  true  God.  We 
must  give  him  honorable  burial."  He  dug  a  grave 
with  the  broad  cimeter  of  his  adversary,  laid  the 
corpse  in  it,  covering  it  with  turf,  and  knelt  in  silent, 
heartfelt  prayer  for  the  soul  of  the  departed. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

When  Heimbert  rose  from  his  pious  duty,  his  first 
glance  fell  on  the  smiling  Zelinda,  who  stood  by  his 
side ;  the  second,  upon  the  completely  changed  scene 
around.  Grottoes  and  caverns  had  vanished,  and 
with  them  also  the  half-terrible,  half-charming  cari- 
catures of  trees  and  beasts ;  a  gentle  hillock  of  the 
softest  green  sloped  on  each  side  from  the  point 
where  he  stood  to  the  sandy  plain.  Several  little 
springs  of  water  murmured  in  refreshing  beauty,  and 
date-trees  overhung  the  pleasant  spot,  all  now  smil- 
ing with  simple  sweet  peace  in  the  beams  of  the  ris- 
ing sun. 

"  Lady,"  said  Heimbert  to  his  companion,  "  you 
can  now  feel  how  immeasurably  greater  and  more 
beautiful  is  all  that  the  dear  Father  of  us  all  has 
created  than  any  work  of  man's  highest  art  To  as- 
sist Him  in  His  gracious  works  has  the  Heavenly 
Gardener,  in  His  abundant  mercy,  granted  to  us, 
His  beloved  children,  that  we  may  become  thereby 
better  and  happier ;  but  we  should  be  especially 
careful  not  to  walk  in  our  own  rash,  willful  ways :  this 
it  is  which  drives  us  a  second  time  from  Paradise." 

"  It  shall  not  happen  again,"  said  Zelinda,  humbly 


168  THE   TWO   CAPTAINS. 

kneeling  before  the  youth.  "  Wouldst  thou  dare,  in 
this  desolate  region,  where  we  can  meet  with  no 
priest  of  our  faith,  to  bestow  upon  me,  who  am  now 
changed,  without  farther  delay,  the  blessing  of  Holy 
Baptism  ?  " 

Heimbert  answered,  after  a  tho^ughtful  pause,  "  I 
hope  I  may  do  this :  if  I  am  wrong,  God  will  pardon 
what  is  surely  done  in  zeal  to  bring  to  Him  so  wor- 
thy a  soul  as  soon  as  possible." 

They  walked,  side  by  side,  to  one  of  the  springs  of 
the  oasis,  silently  praying,  and  their  souls  filled  with 
peaceful  hope.  By  the  time  they  had  reached  it, 
and  addressed  themselves  to  the  holy  work,  the  sun 
had  risen  in  glory,  as  if  to  confirm  and  strengthen 
them  in  their  purpose  ;  so  that  their  beaming  coun- 
tenances looked  joyful  and  confiding  to  one  another. 
Heimbert  had  not  thought  of  what  Christian  name 
he  would  bestow  upon  his  neophyte ;  but  as  he 
sprinkled  the  water  over  her,  and  saw  the  desert-sea, 
so  solemn  in  the  glow  of  morning,  he  remembered 
the  pious  hermit  Antonius  in  his  Egyptian  waste, 
and  baptized  the  lovely  convert  —  Antonia. 

They  passed  the  day  in  holy  conversation,  and 
Antonia  showed  her  friend  a  little  cave  where  she 
used  to  keep  her  provisions,  when  she  first  dwelt  on 
this  oasis.  "  For,"  said  she,  "  the  good  God  is  my 
witness  that  my  motive  for  coming  hither  was  to  be- 
come better  acquainted  with  Him  and  His  works  in 
solitude,  without  the  least  thought  of  learning  magic 
arts.     Then  came  the  dervish  tempting  me  ;  and  he 


THE   TWO   CAPTAINS.  169 

drew,  by  his  horrible  power,  the  evil  spirits  of  the 
desert  into  a  league  against  me,  and  they  allured  me 
to  make  all  the  things  they  showed  me  either  in 
dreams  or  awake." 

Heimbert  had  no  scruple  to  take  with  him  from 
this  store  whatever  of  wine  and  dried  fruits  would 
be  useful  for  their  journey.  Antonia  assured  him 
that  the  way,  which  was  very  well  known  to  her, 
would  lead  them  in  a  few  days  to  the  fruitful  shore 
of  this  waterless  ocean.  With  the  approach  of 
evening  coolness  they  began  their  wanderings. 

The  travellers  had  almost  traversed  this  pathless 
plain,  when  one  day,  they  saw  a  wandering  figure  at 
a  very  great  distance ;  for  in  the  boundless  Sahara 
every  object  is  visible  an  immense  way  off,  if  the 
whirlwind  of  the  desert  raises  no  sandy  columns  to 
intercept  the  view.  This  unfortunate  man  seemed 
uncertain  which  way  to  direct  his  steps,  sometimes 
taking  one  direction,  and  then  changing  to  the  op- 
posite one.  An  tenia's  oriental  falcon  eyes  could 
discover  that  it  was  no  Arab,  but  a  man  in  knightly 
garb. 

"  O  dear  sister,"  said  Heimbert,  with  eager  joy, 
"  it  must  be  poor  Frederigo  seeking  thee !  For 
God's  sake,  let- us  hasten,  lest  he  lose  us,  and  per- 
haps his  own  life  also,  in  this  immeasurable  waste." 

They  strove  with  all  their  power  to  reach  him,  but 
owing  to  the  burning  sun  (for  it  was  now  midday), 
Antonia  could  not  long  support  these  hasty  steps  ; 
ind  soon  the  fearful  storm-blast  raised  the  cloud  of 


170  THE   TWO   CAPTAINS. 

sand,  which  completely  obscured  the  object  of  theii 
search. 

With  the  rising  moon  they  renewed  their  pursuit, 
calling  loudly  upon  Frederigo,  and  making  signal- 
flags  of  their  white  handkerchiefs  tied  to  their  walk- 
ing-staffs ;  but  all  in  vain.  The  object  which  had 
disappeared  remained  invisible.  Only  a  few  giraffes 
sprang  timidly  before  them,  and  the  ostriches 
crossed  their  path  with  winged  speed. 

At  last,  when  morning  dawned,  Antonia  stopped, 
and  said,  "  Thou  canst  not  leave  me  alone,  brother, 
in  this  wilderness,  and  I  cannot  go  one  step  further. 
God  will  protect  the  noble  Frederigo  ;  for  how  can 
a  father  forsake  so  excellent  a  child  ?  " 

"  The  pupil  shames  the  tutor,"  returned  Heimbert, 
his  sorrowful  face  brightening  into  a  smile.  "  We 
have  done  our  parts,  and  may  confidently  leave  the 
rest  to  God,  hoping  He  will  assist  our  helplessness." 
He  spread  his  mantle  on  the  sand,  that  Antonia 
might  rest  more  comfortably ;  but  suddenly  looked 
up,  exclaiming,  "  O  God !  there  is  a  man  quite 
buried  in  the  sand  !  Oh  that  he  may  not  be  already 
dead  !  " 

Immediately  he  began  to  sprinkle  wine  from  their 
little  flask  upon  his  forehead,  and  to  chafe  his  tem- 
ples with  it.  At  length  he  slow^ly  opened  his  eyes 
and  said,  "  Oh  that  the  morning-dew  had  not 
again  fallen  on  me,  then  I  should  have  perished  un- 
krown  and  unlamented  in  this  desert,  as  it  must 
aappen   at  last ! "     With  these  words  he  closed  his 


THE  TWO  CAPTAINS.  171 

eyes  again,  like  one  drunken  with  sleep  ;  but  Heim- 
bert  unceasingly  continued  his  endeavors  to  restore 
him,  and  after  some  time  the  wearied  wanderer  half 
raised  himself  on  the  sand. 

He  looked  from  Heimbert  to  his  companion,  and 
again  at  Heimbert,  and  suddenly  exclaimed,  gnash- 
ing his  teeth  with  rage.  "  It  is  even  so  :  I  shall  not 
perish  in  the  dim  obscurity  of  forgetfulness;  I  have 
lived  to  see  the  success  of  niy  rivals  and  my  sister's 
shame !  "  He  sprang  eagerly  to  his  feet  and  rushed 
on  Heimbert  with  drawn  sword.  The  German 
moved  neither  sword  nor  arm,  but  answered,  with  a 
friendly  voice,  "  So  exhausted  as  thou  art,  I  cannot 
possibly  take  advantage  of  thee ;  besides,  I  must 
first  place  this  lady  in  security." 

Antonia,  who  had  looked  at  first  with  much  emo- 
tion on  the  angry  knight,  now  stepped  between  the 
two,  and  said,  "  0  Frederigo,  neither  misery  nor 
anger  can  entirely  disfigure  thee ;  but  in  what  has 
my  noble  brother  offended  thee  ?  " 

"  Brother  I  "  repeated  Frederigo,  with  astonish- 
ment. 

"  Or  godfather,  or  confessor,"  said  Heimbert :  "  call 
me  which  you  please ;  only  call  this  lady  no  longer 
Zelinda ;  her  name  is  Antonia ;  she  is  a  Christian, 
and  thy  bride ! " 

Frederigo  stood  lost  in  astonishment ;  but  Heim- 
bert's  true-hearted  words  and  Antonia's  lovely 
blushes  interpreted  the  enigma  for  him.  He  sank 
before  the  long-cherished  image  of  his  lady ;  and 


172  THE  TWO   CAPTAINS. 

here,  in  this  inhospitable  desert,  there  bloomed  to 
heaven  a  flower  of  love,  gratitude,  and  faith. 

The  excitement  of  this  overpowering  happiness 
at  last  gave  way  to  bodily  fatigue.  Antonia  reposed 
her  delicate  limbs  on  the  now  scorching  sand,  like  a 
drooping  flower,  and  slept  under  the  protection  of 
her  lover  and  chosen  brother. 

"  Sleep  thou  also,"  said  Heimbert  softly  to  Fred- 
erigo  ;  "  thou  must  have  wandered  far,  for  weariness 
is  stamped  upon  thine  eyelids,  while  I  am  quite 
fresh,  and  will  watch  beside  thee." 

"  Ah,  Heimbert,"  sighed  the  noble  Castilian,  "  my 
sister  is  thine,  thou  messenger  of  Heaven,  —  that  is 
an  understood  thing ;  but  for  our  unfinished  quar- 
rel"— 

"  Certainly,"  interrupted  Heimbert,  very  gravely, 
"  thou  must  satisfy  me  for  every  hasty  word  when  we 
are  again  in  Spain.  But,  till  then,  I  beg  thou  wilt 
never  mention  it,  for  it  is  no  fit  topic  of  conversa- 
tion." 

Frederigo  sorrowfully  reposed  on  the  sand,  over- 
powered by  long-resisted  sleep  ;  and  Heimbert  knelt 
to  thank  God  for  so  many  gracious  blessings  already 
bestowed,  and  for  placing  so  joyful  a  futuie  before 
him. 

The  next  day  the  three  travellers  reached  the 
border  of  the  desert,  and  refreshed  themselves  with 
a  week's  rest  at  a  little  village  hard  by  ;  which,  with 
its  shadowing  trees  and  soft  green  pastures,  seemed 
like  a  little  Paradise  compared  to  the  joyless  Sahara. 


THE   TWO  CAPTAINS.  173 

Frederigo's  condition  made  this  rest  particularly 
necessary  ;  for  he  had  not  once  left  the  desert,  and 
was  often  compelled  to  fight  with  the  wandering 
Arabs  for  his  subsistence,  and  sometimes  he  had  suf- 
fered the  total  want  of  food  and  drink.  At  length 
he  became  so  perplexed,  that  the  stars  no  longer  suf- 
ficed to  guide  him,  and  he  was  driven  about,  sorrow- 
ful and  aimless,  like  the  whirlwind  of  the  desert. 

Even  now,  when  he  fell  avsleep  after  the  noonday 
meal,  and  Antonia  and  Heimbert  watched  his  slum- 
bers like  two  smiling  angels,  he  would  suddenly 
awake  in  terror,  and  look  round  him  with  horror,  till, 
reassured  by  their  friendly  faces,  he  sunk  back  again 
to  rest.  In  answer  to  the  questions  they  put  to  him 
when  he  was  fully  awake,  he  said  that,  in  his  wan- 
derings, nothing  had  been  more  horrible  to  him  than 
the  deceitful  dreams  which  sometimes  carried  him 
to  his  own  home,  sometimes  into  the  merry  camp  of 
his  comrades,  and  sometimes  even  into  Zelinda's 
neighborhood,  and  doubled,  by  contrast,  the  help- 
less misery  of  the  frightful  desert.  This  it  was  which 
always  gave  to  the  moment  of  waking  something 
fearful,  and  even  in  sleep  he  retained  a  dim  con- 
sciousness of  past  sufferings. 

"  You  cannot  think, "  added  he,  "  what  it  was  to 
be  suddenly  banished  from  the  well-known  scenes 
to  the  endless  waste,  where,  instead  of  the  long-de- 
sired, enchanting  countenance  of  my  beloved,  I  only 
saw  the  long  neck  of  a  hateful  camel  curiously 
stretched  over  me,  and  with  yet  more  hateful  timidity 
springing  away  as  I  rose. " 


174  THE   TWO   CAPTAINS. 

This,  together  with  other  effects  of  his  misfortunes, 
soon  passed  away  from  Frederigo's  mind,  and  they 
continued  their  journey  to  Tunis.  Yet  the  remem- 
brance of  his  conduct  to  Heimbert,  and  its  unavoid- 
able consequences,  spread  like  a  cloud  over  the 
noble  Spaniard's  brow,  and  softened  the  natural 
sternness  of  his  character,  so  that  Antonia  could 
cling  more  closely  to  him  with  her  loving  heart. 

Tunis,  which  had  been  the  scene  of  Zelinda's 
magic  power,  and  of  her  zeal  against  the  Christians, 
now  witnessed  her  solemn  baptism  in  a  newly  conse- 
crated edifice;  and  immediately  afterwards  the  three 
companions  embarked  with  favorable  winds  for  Ma- 
laga. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Beside  the  fountain  where  she  had  parted  from 
Heimbert,  Dona  Clara  sat  one  evening  in  deep 
thought.  The  guitar  on  her  arm  gave  forth  a  few- 
solitary  chords,  which  her  delicate  hand  dreamily 
enticed  from  it ;  and  at  last  they  formed  themselves 
into  a  melody,  while  the  following  "words  were  mur- 
mured from  her  half-opened  lips  :  — 

"  Say  who,  by  Tunis'  walls  afar, 
Where  with  grim  bands  of  Paynim  might 
The  Spaniard  and  the  German  fight,— 
From  lilies  dark  with  gory  dew, 
And  roses  of  death's  pallid  hue, 
Say,  who  hath  won  the  prize  of  war  ? 

"  Of  Alva  ask  the  tale  of  fame, 

And  he  two  knights  of  pride  will  name  : 

One  was  my  brother,  tried  and  brave ; 

One,  he  to  whom  m}'  heart  I  gave  : 

And  fain  I  hoped,  in  joyous  light. 

To  weave  their  garlands  doubly  bright. 

"  But  sadly  o'er  my  eyes  and  brow 
A  widow's  veil  falls  doubly  now  ; 
The  knights  are  gone,  and  ne'er  again 
Shall  they  be  found  'mid  living  men. " 

The  guitar  was  silent  and  soft  dew-drops  fell  from 


176  THE   TWO   CAPTAINS. 

her  heavenly  eyes.  Heimbert,  who  was  hidden  be- 
hind the  neighboring  orange-tree,  felt  sympathetic 
tears  roll  down  his  cheeks  ;  and  Frederigo,  who  had 
led  him  and  Antonia  in  by  the  garden-way,  would 
no  longer  keep  the  cup  of  joy  from  the  restored  ones, 
but  disclosed  himself,  with  a  dear  form  on  either 
arm,  as  a  messenger  from  Heaven  to  his  sister. 

But  such  moments  of  high,  overpowering  delight, 
like  the  most  precious  and  long-expected  heavenly 
blessings,  are  better  imagined  than  described.  It  is 
only  doing  an  ill  service  to  recount  what  this  one 
said,  and  that  one  did.  Picture  it  then  to  thyself, 
dear  reader,  after  thine  own  fancy,  if  the  two  pairs 
in  my  story  have  become  dear  to  thee,  and  thou  art 
now  intimate  with  them.  If  this  be  not  the  case, 
my  words  would  be  lost  upon  thee.  For  those,  then, 
who  with  hearty  pleasure  have  dwelt  on  the  reunion 
of  sister  and  lover,  I  will  proceed  with  increased 
satisfaction. 

When  Heimbert,  casting  a  significant  look  at 
Frederigo,  wished  to  retire,  after  having  placed  An- 
tonia in  Don  a  Clara's  protection,  the  noble  Spaniard 
would  not  permit  him.  He  detained  his  companion 
with  the  most  courteous  and  brotherly  kindness, 
entreating  him  to  remain  till  the  evening  banquet, 
at  which  many  distinguished  persons  of  the  .family 
of  Mendez  were  present.  In  their  presence  Fred- 
erigo declared  that  the  brave  Heimbert  of  Wald- 
hausen  was  Dona  Clara's  bridegroom :  at  the  same 
time  calling  them  to  witness  the  sealing  it  with  the 


THE  TWO   CAPTAINS.  177 

most  solemn  words,  in  order  that  whatever  might 
afterwards  happen,  which  should  seem  inimical  to 
their  contract,  it  might  yet  remain  indissoluble. 
The  spectators  were  somewhat  astonished  at  these 
strange  precautionary  measures,  though  no  one  op- 
posed Frederigo's  desire,  but  unhesitatingly  gave 
him  their  word  that  they  would  carry  out  his  wishes. 
Their  ready  compliance  was  greatly  caused  by  Duke 
Alva's  having,  during  his  late  sojourn  in  Malaga, 
filled  the  whole  city  with  his  praises  of  the  two  he- 
roic young  captains. 

"When  the  generous  wines  were  circulating  round 
the  table,  Frederigo  stepped  behind  Heimbert's 
chair,  and  whispered,  "  If  it  please  you,  senor,  the 
moon  is  now  risen  and  shining  bright  as  day :  I  am 
ready  to  meet  you."  Heimbert  bowed  assentingly, 
and  the  youths  left  the  hall,  followed  by  the  sweet 
salutations  of  their  unsuspecting  brides. 

As  they  passed  through  the  blooming  gardens, 
Frederigo  said,  "  Ah !  how  happily  we  might  have 
walked  together  here,  had  it  not  been  for  my  rash- 
ness ! " 

"  Yes,  truly,"  answered  Heimbert ;  "  but  as  it  has 
happened,  and  cannot  now  be  otherwise,  we  will  pro- 
ceed, and  only  look  upon  one  another  as  soldiers  and 
noblemen." 

"  Even  so,"  replied  Frederigo  ;  and  they  hastened 
on  to  the  farthest  part  of  the  gardens,  where  the 
sound  of  their  clashing  arms  might  not  reach  the 
high  banqueting  halL 
12 


178  THE   TWO   CAPTAINS. 

Silent  and  inclosed  amid  dark  groves  was  the 
chosen  spot.  No  sounds  could  be  heard  there  from 
the  joyous  company,  no  noise  from  the  populous 
streets  of  the  city.  Only  high  in  heaven  the  full 
moon  shone  down  with  bright  beams  upon  the  sol- 
emn circle.  It  was  the  right  place.  Both  captains 
drew  their  shining  blades,  and  stood  opposite  to  one 
another,  ready  for  the  combat ;  but  before  they  be- 
gan, a  kindlier  feeling  drew  them  to  each  other ; 
they  lowered  their  weapons,  and  embraced  in  the 
most  brotherly  manner,  then  they  tore  themselves 
away,  and  the  fearful  fight  began. 

They  were  now  no  more  brothers  in  arms  —  no 
more  friends  —  no  more  brothers-in-law,  who  raised 
the  sharp  swords  against  each  other.  With  firm 
boldness,  but  with  cool  collectedness,  they  fell  upon 
one  another,  whilst  each  guarded  his  own  breast  at 
the  same  time.  After  a  few  hot  deadly  passes,  the 
combatants  were  compelled  to  rest,  and  they  re- 
garded one  another  with  increased  love ;  each  rejoic- 
ing to  find  his  dear  comrade  so  stout  and  courageous. 
Then  the  fierce  strife  began  anew. 

Heimbert  dashed  aside  Frederigo's  sword  with 
his  left  hand  as  it  was  thrust  at  his  side,  but  the 
keen  edge  had  penetrated  through  his  leathern 
glove,  and  the  rosy  blood  gushed  out. 

"  Halt ! "  cried  Frederigo ;  and  they  searched  for 
the  wound ;  but  finding  it  of  no  importance,  they 
bound  it  up,  and  with  undiminished  ardor  renewed 
the  fight.     It  was  not  long  before  Heimbert's  sword 


THE    TWO  CAPTAINS.  179 

pierced  Frederigo's  shoulder,  and  the  German,  con- 
scious that  it  had  done  so,  cried,  in  his  turn,  "  Halt !  '* 
At  first  Frederigo  would  not  acknowledge  that  there 
w^as  a  wound ;  but  when  the  blood  streamed  forth, 
he  accepted  his  friend's  assistance.  This  wound 
also  seeming  of  no  consequence,  and  the  noble 
Spaniard  finding  himself  strong  enough  in  arm  and 
hand  to  wield  the  sword,  they  pursued  the  deadly 
contest. 

Then  they  heard  a  garden-door  open,  and  the 
tread  as  of  a  horse  from  the  groves.  Both  comba- 
tants stayed  their  stern  work,  and  turned  to  the 
unwelcome  visitant.  The  next  moment  they  saw, 
through  the  slender  pines,  some  one  approaching 
whose  bearing  and  dress  showed  that  he  was  a 
warrior,  mounted  on  a  stately  charger ;  and  Frederigo, 
as  master  of  the  house,  said  to  him,  "  Sen  or,  why 
you  have  intruded  into  a  strange  garden,  we  will 
inquire  another  time.  I  shall  now  only  beg  of  you 
to  retire  from  it  at  once,  and  to  leave  me  your  name." 

"  I  shall  not  retire  at  present,"  answered  the 
stranger  ;  "  but  my  name  I  will  gladly  tell  you.  I 
am  the  Duke  of  Alva." 

At  this  moment  the  moonbeams  fell  upon  his 
Btern,  pale  face  —  that  dwelling-place  of  all  that  was 
noble,  and  great,  and  majestic.  The  two  captains 
bowed  low  and  sank  their  arms. 

"  I  surely  know  you,"  said  Alva,  looking  at  them 
fixedly  with  his  dark  eyes.  "  Yes,  truly,  I  do  know 
/ou,  you  two  young  heroes  of  the  battle  of  Tunis. 


180  THE  TWO   CAPTAINS. 

God  be  blessed  and  praised,  that  I  find  two  such 
noble  warriors  alive,  whom  I  had  almost  given  up 
for  lost.  But  tell  me  now,  what  has  turned  your 
brave  swords  against  each  other  ?  I  trust  you  will 
not  object  to  lay  open  before  me  the  cause  of  this 
knightly  encounter." 

They  complied  with  the  great  duke's  behest. 
Both  the  youths  related  their  history,  from  the  even- 
ing before  the  embarkation  till  the  present  moment ; 
whilst  Alva  remained  motionless  before  them  in 
deep  meditation,  looking  almost  like  an  equestrian 
statue. 

The  captains  had  already  long  ended  their  story, 
and  the  duke  still  remained  silent.  At  last  he  ad- 
dressed them  in  the  following  manner :  — 

"  May  God  and  His  holy  word  help  me,  my  young 
knights,  as  I  tell  you,  with  my  best  wisdom  and  truth 
of  heart,  that  I  believe  this  affair  of  yours  to  be 
now  perfectly  settled.  Twice  have  you  fought  with 
one  another  on  account  of  the  irritating  words  which 
escaped  Don  Frederigo's  lips  :  and  if  indeed  the 
slight  wounds  which  you  have  hitherto  received  are 
not  sufficient,  still,  your  having  been  comrades  in 
the  fight  at  Tunis,  and  Sir  Heimbert  of  Waldhausen 
having  saved  Don  Frederigo  Mendez's  life  in  the 
desert,  after  he  had  rescued  his  bride  for  him  in 
battle,  all  this  orives  the  knioht  of  Waldhausen  the 
privilege  of  forgiving  an  enemy  every  offense,  to 
whom  he  has  shown  himself  so  well  inclined.  The 
old  Roman  history  tells  us  of  two  centurions  under 


TEIE   TWO   CAPTAINS.  181 

the  great  Julius  Caesar  who  settled  a  dispute,  and 
contracted  a  hearty  brotherly  friendship,  from  fight- 
ing side  by  side,  and  delivering  one  another  out  of 
the  midst  of  the  Gallic  army.  But  I  affirm  that 
you  two  have  done  more  for  each  other ;  and  there- 
fore I  declare  this  affair  to  be  entirely  settled  and 
at  an  end.  Sheathe  your  swords,  then,  and  embrace 
in  my  presence." 

Obedient  to  their  general's  command,  the  young 
knights  for  the  present  put  up  their  swords ;  but, 
anxious  lest  the  slightest  shade  should  fall  upon 
their  honor,  they  yet  delayed  the  reconciling  em- 
brace. 

The  great  Alva  looked  somewhat  sternly  upon 
them,  and  said,  "  Do  you  suppose,  young  knights, 
that  I  could  desire  to  save  the  lives  of  two  soldiers 
at  the  expense  of  their  good  name  ?  Sooner  than 
that,  I  would  rather  see  you  both  struck  dead  at 
once.  But  I  see  that  with  such  obstinate  men,  one 
must  proceed  to  more  effective  measures."  And 
leaping  from  his  horse,  which  he  bound  to  a  tree, 
he  stepped  between  the  two  captains  with  a  drawn 
sword  in  his  right  hand,  crying  out,  "  Whoevef 
takes  upon  him  to  deny  that  the  quarrel  between 
Sir  Heimbert  of  Waldhausen  and  Don  Frederigo 
Mendez  is  nobly  and  honorably  settled,  shall  have 
'o  do  with  Duke  Alva  for  life  or  death.  And  should 
either  of  the  aforenamed  knights  object  to  this,  let 
him  declare  it.  I  stand  as  champion  for  my  own 
opinion." 


182  THE  TWO   CAPTAINS. 

The  youths  bowed  to  their  great  umpire,  and 
sank  into  one  another's  •  arms.  The  duke  embraced 
them  with  heartfelt  affection,  which  appeared  the 
more  charming  and  refreshing,  as  any  outward  dem- 
onstration of  it  was  seldom  to  be  seen  in  this  strong- 
minded  man. 

Then  he  led  the  reconciled  ones  back  to  their 
brides  ;  and  when  these,  after  the  first  joyful  surprise 
at  the  presence  of  the  much-honored  general  was 
over,  started  back  on  perceiving  drops  of  blood  on 
the  youths'  garments,  the  duke  said,  laughingly,  "  Oh ! 
the  brides-elect  of  soldiers  must  not  shrink  from 
such  medals  of  honor." 

The  Duke  Alva  took  on  himself  to  stand  as  father 
to  both  the  happy  brides,  and  to  fix  the  festival  of 
their  betrothal  for  the  very  next  day.  From  this 
time  forth  they  all  lived  in  undisturbed  concord ; 
and  when  Sir  Heimbert  was  recalled  with  his  lovely 
spouse  to  the  bosom  of  his  native  Germany,  the  two 
families  yet  continued  near  each  other  by  letters  and 
constant  communications.  And  in  after  times  the 
descendants  of  the  lord  of  Waldhausen  boasted 
their  connection  with  the.  family  of  Mendez,  while 
the  latter  ever  preserved  the  tradition  of  the  brave 
and  magnanimous  Heimbert  of  Waldhausen. 


ASLAUGA'S    KNIGHT. 


ASLAUGA'S   KNIGHT. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Many  years  ago  there  lived  in  the  island  of 
Fuhnen  a  noble  knight,  called  Froda,  the  friend  of 
the  Skalds,  who  was  so  named  because  he  not  only 
offered  free  hospitality  in  his  fair  castle  to  every  re- 
nowned and  noble  bard,  but  likewise  strove  with  all 
his  might  to  discover  those  ancient  songs,  and  tales, 
and  legends,  which,  in  Runic  writings  or  elsewhere, 
were  still  to  be  found ;  he  had  even  made  some 
voyages  to  Iceland  in  search  of  them,  and  had 
fought  many  a  hard  battle  with  the  pirates  of  those' 
seas, —  for  he  was  also  a  right  valiant  knight,  and  he 
followed  his  great  ancestors  not  only  in  their  love 
of  song,  but  also  in  their  bold  deeds  of  arms.  Al- 
though he  was  still  scarcely  beyond  the  prime  of 
youth,  yet  all  the  other  nobles  in  the  island  willingly 
submitted  themselves  to  him,  whether  in  eouncil  or 
in  war ;  nay,  his  renown  had  even  been  carried  ere 
now  over  the  sea  to  the  neighboring  land  of  Ger- 
many. 

One    bright   autumn    evening    this    honor-loving 


186  ASLAUGA'S   KNIGHT. 

knight  sat  before  his  castle,  as  he  was  often  wont  to 
do,  that  he  might  look  far  and  wide  over  land  and 
sea,  and  that  he  might  invite  any  travellers  who 
were  passing  by,  as  was  his  custom,  to  share  his  no- 
ble hospitality.  But  on  this  day  he  saw  little  of  all 
that  he  was  accustomed  to  look  upon ;  for  on  his 
knees  there  lay  an  ancient  book  with  skillfully  and 
richly  painted  characters,  which  a  learned  Icelander 
had  just  sent  to  him  across  the  sea :  it  was  the  history 
of  Aslauga,  the  fair  daughter  of  Sigurd,  who  at  first, 
concealing  her  high  birth,  kept  goats  among  the 
simple  peasants  of  the  land,  clothed  in  mean  attire  ; 
then,  in  the  golden  veil  of  her  flowing  hair,  won  the 
love  of  King  Ragnar  Lodbrog ;  and  at  last  shone 
brightly  on  the  Danish  throne  as  his  glorious  queen, 
till  the  day  of  her  death. 

To  the  Knight  Froda  it  seemed  as  though  the 
gracious  Lady  Aslauga  rose  in  life  and  birth  before 
him,  so  that  his  calm  and  steadfast  heart,  true  in- 
deed to  ladies'  service,  but  never  yet  devoted  to  one 
particular  female  image,  burst  forth  in  a  clear 
flame  of  love  for  the  fair  daughter  of  Sigurd. 
"  What  matters  it,"  thought  he  to  himself,  "  that  it 
is  more  than  a  hundred  years  since  she  disappeared 
from  earth  ?  She  sees  so  clearly  into  this  heart  of 
mine  —  dnd  what  more  can  a  knight  desire  ?  where- 
fore she  shall  henceforth  be  my  honored  love,  and 
shall  inspire  me  in  battle  and  in  song."  And  there- 
with he  sang  a  lay  on  his  new  love,  which  ran  in  the 
following  manner :  — 


ASLAUGA'S  KNIGHT.  187 

"  They  ride  over  hill  and  4ale  apace 
To  seek  for  their  love  the  fairest  face  ; 
They  search  through  city  and  forest-glade 
To  find  for  their  love  the  gentlest  maid  ; 
The}'  climb  wherever  a  path  may  lead 
To  seek  the  wisest  dame  for  their  meed. 
Ride  on,  ye  knights;  but  ye  never  may  see 
What  the  light  of  song  has  shown  to  me : 
Loveliest,  gentlest,  and  wisest  of  all, 
Bold  be  the  deeds  that  her  name  shall  recall ; 
What  though  she  ne'er  bless  my  earthly  sight? 
Yet  death  shall  reveal  her  countenance  bright. 
Fair  world,  good  night !     Good  day,  sweet  love  I 
Who  seeks  here  in  faith  shall  find  above." 

"  Such  purpose  may  come  to  good,"  said  a  hollow 
voice  near  the  knight ;  and  when  he  looked  round, 
he  saw  the  form  of  a  poor  peasant-woman,  so  closely 
wrapped  in  a  gray  mantle  that  he  could  not  discern 
any  part  of  her  countenance.  She  looked  over  his 
shoulder  on  the  book,  and  said,  with  a  deep  sigh, 
"  I  know  that  story  well ;  and  it  fares  no  better  with 
me  than  with  the  princess  of  whom  it  tells."  Froda 
looked  at  her  with  astonishment.  "  Yes,  yes,"  pur- 
sued she,  with  strange  becks  and  nods ;  "  I  am  the 
descendant  of  the  mighty  Rolf,  to  whom  the  fairest 
castles  and  forests  and  fields  of  this  island  once  be- 
longed: your  castle  and  your  domains,  Froda, 
amongst  others,  were  his.  We  are  now  cast  down 
to  poverty ;  and  because  I  am  not  so  fair  as  Aslauga, 
there  is  no  hope  that  my  possessions  will  be  restored 
to  me ;  and  therefore  I  am  fain  to  veil  my  poor  face 
from  every  eye."     It  seemed  that  she  shed  warm 


188  •  ASLAUGA'S   KNIGHT. 

tears  beneath  her  mantle.  At  this  Froda  was 
greatly  moved,  and  begged  her,  for  God's  sake,  to 
let  him  know  liDw  he  could  help  her,  for  that  he  was 
a  descendant  of  the  famous  northern  heroes  of  the 
olden  time ;  and  perhaps  yet  something  more  than 
they  —  namely,  a  good  Christian.  "  I  almost  think," 
murmured  she  from  ueneath  her  covering,  ^  cue- joi 
are  that  very  Froda  whom  men  call  the  Good,  and 
the  friend  of  the  Skalds,  and  of  whose  generosity 
and  mildness  such  wonderful  stories  are  told.  If  it 
be  so,  there  may  be  help  for  me.  You  need  only 
give  up  to  me  the  half  of  your  fields  and  meadows, 
and  I  shall  be  in  a  condition  to  live,  in  some  meas- 
ure, such  a  life  as  befits  the  descendant  of  the 
mighty  Rolf."  Then  Froda  looked  thoughtfully  on 
the  ground;  partly  because  she  had  asked  for  so 
very  much ;  partly,  also,  because  he  was  considering 
whether  she  could  really  be  descended  from  the 
powerful  Rolf.  But  the  veiled  form  said,  after  a 
pause,  "I  must  have  been  mistaken,  and  you  are 
not  indeed  that  renowned,  gentle-hearted  Froda  : 
for  how  could  he  have  doubted  so  long  about  such 
a  trifle?  But  I  will  try  the  utmost  means.  See 
now !  for  the  sake  of  the  fair  Aslauga,  of  whom  you 
have  both  read  and  sung — for  the  sake  of  the 
honored  daughter  of  Sigurd,  grant  my  request ! " 
Then  Froda  started  up  eagerly,  and  cried,  "  Let  it 
be  as  you  have  said!"  and  gave  her  his  knightly 
hand  to  confirm  his  words.  But  he  could  not  grasp 
the  hand  of  the  peasant-woman,  although  her  dark 


ASLADGA'S   KNIGHT.  189 

form  remained  close  before  him.  A  secret  shud- 
der began  to  run  through  his  limbs,  whilst  suddenly 
a  light  seemed  to  shine  forth  from  the  apparition 
—  a  golden  —  light  in  which  she  became  wholly 
wrapped  ;  so  that  he  felt  as  though  Aslauga  stood 
before  him  in  the  flowing  veil  of  her  golden  hair 
and  smiling  graciously  on  him.  Transported  and 
dazzled,  he  sank  on  his  knees.  When  he  rose  up 
once  more,  he  only  saw  a  cloudy  mist  of  autumn 
spreading  over  the  meadow,  fringed  at  its  edges 
,with  lingering  evening  lights,  and  then  vanishing  far 
over  the  waves.  The  knight  scarcely  knew  what 
had  happened  to  him.  He  returned  to  his  chamber 
buried  in  thought,  and  sometimes  feeling  sure  that 
he  had  beheld  Aslauga ;  sometimes,  again,  that  some 
goblin  had  risen  before  him  with  deceitful  tricks, 
mocking  in  spiteful  wise  the  service  which  he  had 
vowed  to  his  dead  mistress.  But  henceforth,  wher- 
ever he  roved,  over  valley  or  forest  or  heath,  or 
whether  he  sailed  upon  the  waves  of  the  sea,  the 
like  appearances  met  him.  Once  he  found  a  lute 
lying  in  a  wood,  and  drove  a  wolf  away  from  it ; 
and  when  sounds  burst  from  the  lute  without  its 
being  touched,  a  fair  child  rose  up  from  it,  as,  of  old, 
Aslauga  herself  had  done.  At  another  time,  he 
would  see  goats  clambering  among  the  highest  cliffs 
by  the  sea-shore ;  and  it  was  a  golden  form  who 
tended  them.  Then,  again,  a  bright  queen,  resplen- 
dent in  a  dazzling  bark,  would  seem  to  glide  past 
him,  and  salute  him  graciously ;  —  and  if  he  strove 


190  ASLAUGA'S   KNIGHT. 

to  approach  any  of  these,  he  found  nothing  but 
cloud,  and  mist,  and  vapor.  Of  all  this  many  a 
lay  might  be  sung.  But  so  much  he  learnt  from 
them  all,  —  that  the  fair  Lady  Aslauga  accepted  his 
service,  and  that  he  was  now  in  deed  and  in  truth 
become  her  knight. 

Meanwhile  the  winter  had  come  and  gone.  In 
northern  lands  this  season  never  fails  to  bring  to 
those  who  understand  and  love  it  nmny  an  image 
full  of  beauty  and  meaning,  with  which  a  child  of, 
man  might  well  be  satisfied,  so  far  as  earthly  happi- 
ness can  satisfy,  through  all  his  time  on  earth.  But 
when  the  spring  came  glancing  forth  with  its  open- 
ing buds  and  flowing  waters,  there  came  also  bright 
and  sunny  tidings  from  the  land  of  Germany  to 
Fiihnen. 

There  stood  on  the  rich  banks  of  the  Maine,  where 
it  pours  its  waters  through  the  fertile  land  of  Fran- 
conia,  a  castle  of  almost  royal  magnificence,  whose 
orphan-mistress  was  a  relation  of  the  German  em- 
peror. She  was  named  Hildegardis ;  and  was  ac- 
knowledged far  and  wide  as  the  fairest  of  maidens. 
Therefore  her  imperial  uncle  wished  that  she  should 
wed  none  but  the  bravest  knight  who  could  any- 
where be  met  with.  Accordingly  he  followed  the 
example  of  many  a  noble  lord  in  such  a  case,  and 
proclaimed  a  tournament,  at  which  the  chief  prize 
should  be  the  hand  of  the  peerless  Hildegardis,  un- 
less the  victor  already  bore  in  his  heart  a  lady  wed- 


ASLAUGA'S   KNIGHT.  191 

ded  or  betrothed  to  him  ;  for  the  lists  were  not  to  be 
closed  to  any  brave  warrior  of  equal  birth,  that  the 
contest  of  strength  and  courage  might  be  so  much 
the  richer  in  competitors. 

Now  the  renowned  Froda  had  tidings  of  this 
from  his  German  brethren  in  arms ;  and  he  pre- 
pared himself  to  appear  at  the  festival.  Before  all 
things,  he  forged  for  himself  a  splendid  suit  of 
armor ;  as,  indeed,  he  was  the  most  excellent  ar- 
morer of  the  North,  far-famed  as  it  is  for  skill  in 
that  art.  He  worked  the  helmet  out  in  pure  gold, 
and  formed  it  so  that  it  seemed  to  be  covered  with 
bright  flowing  locks,  which  called  to  mind  Aslauga's 
tresses.  He  also  fashioned  on  the  breastplate  of  his 
armor,  overlaid  with  silver,  a  golden  image  in  half 
relief,  which  represented  Aslauga  in  her  veil  of  flow- 
ing locks,  that  he  might  make  known,  even  at  the 
beginning  of  the  tournament,  —  "  This  knight,  bear- 
ing the  image  of  a  lady  upon  his  breast,  fights  not  for 
the  hand  of  the  beautiful  Hildegardis,  but  only  for 
the  joy  of  battle  and  for  knightly  fame."  Then  he 
took  out  of  his  stables  a  beautiful  Danish  steed,  em- 
barked it  carefully  on  board  a  vessel,  and  sailed  pros- 
perously to  the  opposite  shore. 


CHAPTER  11. 


In  one  of  those  fair  beech-woods,  which  abound  in 
the  fertile  land  of  Germany,  he  fell  in  with  a  young 
and  courteous  knight  of  delicate  form,  who  asked 
the  noble  Northman  to  share  the  meal  which  he 
had  invitingly  spread  out  upon  the  greensward,  un- 
der the  shade  of  the  pleasantest  boughs.  Whilst 
the  two  knights  sat  peacefully  together  at  their 
repast,  they  felt  drawn  towards  each  other;  and 
rejoiced  when,  on  rising  from  it,  they  observed  that 
they  were  about  to  follow  the  same  road.  They 
had  not  come  to  this  good  understanding  by  means 
of  many  words ;  for  the  young  knight  Edwald 
was  of  a  silent  nature,  and  would  sit  for  hours  with 
a  quiet  smile  upon  his  lips  without  opening  them  to 
speak.  But  even  in  that  quiet  smile  there  lay  a 
gentle,  winning  grace  ;  and  when,  from  time  to  time, 
a  few  simple  words  of  deep  meaning  sprang  to  his 
lips,  they  seemed  like  a  gift  deserving  of  thanks. 
It  was  the  same  with  the  little  songs  which  he  sang 
ever  and  anon ;  they  were  ended  almost  as  soon  as 
begun  :  but  in  each  short  couplet  there  dwelt  a  deep 
and  winning  spirit,  whether  it  called  forth  a  kindly 
sigh  or  a  peaceful  smile.     It  seemed  to  the  noble 


ASLAUGA'S    KNIGHT.  193 

Froda  as  if  a  younger  brother  rode  beside  him,  or 
even  a  tender,  blooming  son.  They  travelled  thus 
many  days  together ;  and  it  appeared  as  if  their 
path  were  marked  out  for  them  in  inseparable  union  : 
and  much  as  they  rejoiced  at  this,  yet  they  looked 
sadly  at  each  other  whenever  they  set  out  afresh,  or 
where  cross-roads  met,  on  finding  that  neither  took 
a  different  direction  ;  nay,  it  seemed  at  times  as  if  a 
tear  gathered  in  Edwald's  downcast  eye. 

It  happened  on  a  time,  that  at  their  hostelry  they 
met  an  arrogant,  overbearing  knight,  of  gigantic 
stature  and  powerful  frame,  whose  speech  and  car- 
riage proved  him  to  be  not  of  German  but  foreign 
birth.  He  appeared  to  come  from  the  land  of  Bo- 
hemia. He  cast  a  contemptuous  smile  on  Froda, 
who,  as  usual,  had  opened  the  ancient  book  of  As- 
lauga's  history,  and  was  attentively  reading  in  it. 
"  You  must  be  a  ghostly  knight  ? "  he  said,  in- 
quiringly ;  and  it  appeared  as  if  a  whole  train  of 
unseemly  jests  were  ready  to  follow.  But  Froda 
answered  so  firmly  and  seriously  with  a  negative, 
that  the  Bohemian  stopped  short  suddenly  ;  as  when 
the  beasts,  after  having  ventured  to  mock  their  king 
the  lion,  are  subdued  to  quietness  by  one  glance  of 
his  eye.  But  not  so  easily  was  the  Bohemian 
knight  subdued ;  rather  the  more  did  he  begin  to 
mock  young  Edwald  for  his  delicate  form  and  for 
his  silence  —  all  which  he  bore  for  some  time  with 
great  patience ;  but  when  at  last  the  stranger  used 
an  unbecoming  phrase,  he  arose,  girded  on  his 
13 


194  ASLAUGA'S   KNIGHT. 

Bword,  and  bowing  gracefully,  he  said,  *  I  thank 
you,  Sir  Knight,  that  you  have  given  me  this  op- 
portunity of  proving  that  I  am  neither  a  slothful 
nor  unpracticed  knight;  for  only  thus  can  your 
behavior  be  excused,  which  otherwise  must  be 
deemed  most  unmannerly.     Are  you  ready  ?  " 

With  these  words  he  moved  towards  the  door ; 
the  Bohemian  knight  followed,  smiling  scornfully ; 
while  Froda  was  full  of  care  for  his  young  and 
slender  companion,  although  his  honor  was  so  dear 
to  him  that  he  could  in  no  way  interpose. 

But  it  soon  appeared  how  needless  were  the 
Northman's  fears.  With  equal  vigor  and  address 
did  Edwald  assault  his  gigantic  adversary,  so  that  to 
look  upon,  it  was  almost  like  one  of  those  combats 
between  a  knight  and  some  monster  of  the  forest, 
of  which  ancient  legends  tell.  The  issue  too  was  not 
unlike.  While  the  Bohemian  was  collecting  himself 
for  a  decisive  stroke,  Edwald  rushed  in  upon  him, 
and,  with  the  force  of  a  wrestler,  cast  him  to  the 
ground.  But  he  spared  his  conquered  foe,  helped 
him  courteously  to  rise,  and  then  turned  to  mount  his 
own  steed.  Soon  after  he  and  Froda  left  the  hos- 
telry, and  once  more  their  journey  led  them  on  the 
same  path  as  before. 

"  From  henceforth  this  gives  me  pleasure,"  said 
Froda,  pointing  with  satisfaction  to  their  common 
road.  "  I  must  own  to  you,  Edchen,"  —  he  had  ac- 
customed himself,  in  loving  confidence,  to  call  his 
young  friend  by  that  childlike  name,  —  "I  must  own 


ASrAUGA'S    KNIGHT.*  195 

to  you,  that  hitherto,  when  I  have  thought  that  you 
might  perhaps  be  journeying  with  me  to  the  tourna- 
ment held  in  honor  of  the  fair  Hildegardis,  a  heavi- 
ness came  over  my  heart.  Your  noble  knightly 
spirit  I  well  knew,  but  I  feared  lest  the  strength  of 
your  slender  limbs  might  not  be  equal  to  it.  Now  I 
have  learned  to  know  you  as  a  warrior  who  may  long 
seek  his  match  ;  and  God  be  praised  if  we  still  hold 
on  in  the  same  path,  and  welcome  our  earliest  meet- 
ing in  the  lists  !  " 

But  Edwald  looked  at  him  sorrowfully,  and  said^ 
"  What  can  my  skill  and  strength  avail,  if  they  be 
tried  against  you,  and  for  the  greatest  earthly  prize, 
which  one  of  us  alone  can  win  ?  Alas  !  I  have  long 
foreboded  with  a  heavy  heart  the  sad  truth,  that  you 
also  are  journeying  to  the  tournament  of  the  fair 
Hildegardis." 

"  Edchen,"  answered  Froda,  with  a  smile,  "  my 
gentle,  loving  youth,  see  you  not  that  I  already  wear 
on  my  breastplate  the  image  of  a  liege  lady  ?  I 
strive  but  for  renown  in  arms,  and  not  for  your  fair 
Hildegardis." 

"  My  fair  Hildegardis !  "  answered  Edwald,  with  a 
sigh.  "  That  she  is  not,  nor  ever  will  be,  —  or  should 
she,  ah  !  Froda,  it  would  pierce  your  heart.  I  know 
well  the  Northland  faith  is  deep-rooted  as  your  rocks, 
and  hard  to  dissolve  as  their  summits  of  snow ;  but 
let  no  man  think  that  he  can  look  unscathed  into  the 
eyes  of  Hildegardis.  Has  not  she,  the  haughty,  the 
too  haughty  maiden,  so  bewitched  my  tranquil,  lowly 


196  •  ASLAUGA'S  KNIGHT, 

mind,  that  T  forget  the  gulf  which  lies  between  us, 
and  still  pursue  her ;  and  would  rather  perish  than 
renounce  the  daring  hope  to  win  that  eagle  spirit  for 
my  own  ? " 

"  I  will  help  you  to  it,  Edchen,"  answered  Froda, 
smiling  still.  "  Would  that  I  knew  how  this  all-con- 
quering lady  looks !  She  must  resemble  the  Val- 
kyrien  of  our  heathen  forefathers,  since  so  many 
mighty  warriors  are  overcome  by  her." 

Edwald  solenmly  drew  forth  a  picture  from  beneath 
his  breastplate,  and  held  it  before  him.  Fixed,  and 
as  if  enchanted,  Froda  gazed  upon  it,  with  glowing 
cheeks  and  sparkling  eyes  ;  the  smile  passed  away 
from  his  countenance,  as  the  sunlight  fades  away 
from  the  meadows  before  the  coming  darkness  of 
the  storm 

"  See  you  not  now,  my  noble  comrade,"  whispered 
Edwald,  "  that  for  one  of  us  two,  or  perhaps  for  both, 
the  joy  of  life  is  gone  ?  " 

"  Not  yet,"  replied  Froda,  with  a  powerful  effort ; 
"but  hide  your  magic  picture,  and  let  us  rest  be- 
neath this  shade.  You  must  be  somewhat  spent  with 
your  late  encounter,  and  a  strange  weariness  op- 
presses me  with  leaden  weight"  They  dismounted 
from  their  steeds,  and  stretched  themselves  upon  the 
ground. 

The  noble  Froda  had  no  thought  of  sleep;  but 
be  wished  to  be  undisturbed  whilst  he  wrestled 
strongly  with  himself  and  strove,  if  it  might  be,  to 
drive  from  his  mind  that  image  of  fearful  beauty.    It 


ASLAUGA'S   KNIGHl.  197 

seemed  as  if  this  new  influence  had  alread}?  become 
a  part  of  his  very  life,  and  at  last  a  restless  dreamy 
sleep  did  indeed  overshadow  the  exhausted  warrior. 
He  fancied  himself  engaged  in  combat  with  many 
knights,  whilst  Hildegardis  looked  on  smiling  from 
a  richly  adorned  balcony  ;  and  just  as  he  thought  he 
had  gained  the  victory,  the  bleeding  Edwald  lay 
groaning  beneath  his  horse's  feet.  Then  again  it 
seemed  as  if  Hildegardis  stood  by  his  side  in  a 
church,  and  they  were  about  to  receive  the  marriage- 
blessing.  He  knew  well  that  this  was  not  right,  and 
the  "  Yes,'*  which  he  was  to  utter,  he  pressed  back 
with  resolute  effort  into  his  heart,  and  forthwith  his 
eyes  were  moistened  with  burning  tears.  From  yet 
stranger  and  more  bewildering  visions,  the  voice  of 
Edwald  at  last  awoke  him.  He  raised  himself  up, 
and  heard  his  young  companion  saying  courteously, 
as  he  looked  towards  a  neighboring  thicket,  "  Only 
return,  noble  maiden  ;  I  will  surely  help  you,  if  I 
can  ;  and  I  had  no  wish  to  scare  you  away,  but  that 
the  slumbers  of  my  brother  in  arms  might  not  be 
disturbed  by  you."  A  golden  gleam  shone  through 
the  branches  as  it  vanished. 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  my  faithful  comrade,"  cried 
Froda,  "  to  whom  are  you  speaking,  and  who  has 
been  here  by  me  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  myself  rightly  understand,"  said  Ed- 
wald. "  Hardly  had  you  dropped  asleep,  when  a  fig- 
•are  came  forth  from  the  forest,  closely  wrapped  in  a 


198  ASLAUGA'S   KNIGHT. 

dark  mantle.  At  first  I  took  her  for  a  peasant.  She 
seated  herself  at  your  head ;  and  though  I  could  see 
nothing  of  her  countenance,  I  could  well  observe 
that  she  was  sorely  troubled,  and  even  shedding 
tears.  I  made  signs  to  her  to  depart,  lest  she  should 
disturb  your  sleep ;  and  would  have  offered  her  a 
piece  of  gold,  supposing  that  poverty  must  be  the 
cause  of  her  deep  distress.  But  my  hand  seemed 
powerless,  and  a  shudder  passed  through  me,  as  if 
I  had  entertained  such  a  purpose  towards  a  queen. 
Immediately  glittering  locks  of  gold  waved  here -and 
there  between  the  folds  of  her  close-wrapped  mantle, 
and  the  thicket  began  almost  to  shine  in  the  light 
which  they  shed.  '  Poor  youth,'  said  she  then, 
*  you  love  truly,  and  can  well  understand  how  a  lofty 
woman's  heart  burns  in  keenest  sorrow,  when  a 
noble  knight,  who  vowed  himself  to  be  her  own, 
withdraws  his  heart,  and,  like  a  weak  bondman,  is 
led  away  to  meaner  hopes.'  Hereupon  she  arose, 
and,  sighing,  disappeared  in  yonder  thicket.  It 
almost  seemed  to  me,  Froda,  as  though  she  uttered 
your  name." 

"  Yes,  it  was  me  she  named,"  answered  Froda ; 
"  and  not  in  vain  she  named  me.  —  Aslauga,  thy 
knight  comes,  and  enters  the  lists,  and  all  for  thee 
and  thy  reward  alone !  —  At  the  same  time,  my  Ed- 
shen,  we  will  win  for  you  your  haughty  bride."  With 
this  he  sprang  upon  his  steed,  full  of  the  proud  joy 
of  former  times ;  and  when  the  magic  of  Hildegar 


ASLAUGA'S   KNIGHT. 


199 


dis's  beauty,  dazzling  and  Jbewildering,  would  rise  up 
before  him,  he  said  smiling,  "  Aslauga !  "  and  the  sun 
of  his  inner  life  shone  forth  again  cloudless  and 
serene. 


M 

^S 

^^L 

^^H 

mi. 

^^8 

^^^S 

CHAPTER  III. 

From  a  balcony  of  her  castle  on  the  Maine,  Hil- 
degardis  was  wont  to  refresh  herself  in  the  cool  of 
the  evening  by  gazing  on  the  rich  landscape  below, 
but  gazing  more  eagerly  on  the  glitter  of  arms, 
which  often  came  in  §ight  from  many  a  distant  road ; 
for  knights  were  approaching  singly,  or  with  a  train 
of  followers,  all  eager  to  prove  their  courage  and 
their  strength  in  striving  for  the  high  prize  of  the 
tournament.  She  was  in  truth  a  proud  and  high- 
minded  maiden,  —  perhaps  more  so  than  became 
even  her  dazzling  beauty  and  her  princely  rank.  As 
she  now  gazed  with  a  proud  smile  on  the  glittering 
roads,  a  damsel  of  her  train  began  the  following 
lay:  — 

"  The  joyous  song  of  birds  in  spring 
Upon  the  wing 

Doth  echo  far  liirough  M'^ood  and  dell, 
And  freely  teTl 

Their  treasures  sweet  of  love  and  mirth, 

Too  gladsome  for  this  lowly  earth. 

"  The  gentle  breath  of  flowers  in  May, 

O'er  meadows  gay. 
Doth  fill  the  pure  and  balmy  air 

With  perfume  rare  ; 
Still  floating  round  each  slender  form. 
Though  scorch' d  by  sun,  or  torn  by  storm. 


ASLAUGA'S   KNIGHT.  201 

"  But  ever}'  high  and  glorious  aim, 

And  the  pure  flame 
That  deep  abiding  in  my  heart 

Can  ne'er  depart, 
Too  lofty  for  my  falt'ring  tongue, 
Must  die  with  me,  unknown,  unsung." 

"  Wherefore  do  you  sing  that  song,  and  at  this 
moment  ? "  said  Hildegardis,  striving  to  appear 
scornful  and  proud,  though  a  deep  and  secret  sad- 
ness was  plainly  enough  seen  to  overshadow  her 
countenance.  "It  came  into  my  head  unawares," 
replied  the  damsel,  "  as  I  looked  upon  the  road  by 
which  the  gentle  Edwald  with  his  pleasant  lays  first 
approached  us ;  for  it  was  from  him  I  learnt  it.  But 
seems  it  not  to  you,  my  gracious  lady,  and  to  you, 
too,  my  companions,  as  if  Edwald  himself  were  again 
riding  that  way  towards  the  castle  ?  " — "  Dreamer  !  " 
said  Hildegardis  scornfully,  —  and  yet  could  not,  for 
some  space,  withdraw  her  eyes  from  the  knight,  till 
at  length,  with  an  effort,  she  turned  them  on  Froda, 
who  rode  beside  him,  saying  :  "  Yes,  truly,  that  knight 
is  Edwald ;  but  what  can  you  find  to  notice  in  the 
meek-spirited,  silent  boy  ?  Here,  fix  your  eyes,  my 
maidens,  on  this  majestic  figure,  if  you  would  behold 
a  knight  indeed."  She  was  silent.  A  voice  within 
her,  as  though  of  prophecy,  said,  "  Now  the  victor 
of  the  tournament  rides  into  the  court-yard  ; "  and 
she,  who  had  never  feared  the  presence  of  any  hu- 
man being,  now  felt  humbled,  and  almost  painfully 
awed,  when  she  beheld  the  northern  knight. 

At  the  evening  meal  the  two  newly  arrived  knights 


202  ASLAUGA'S   KNIGHT. 

were  placed  opposite  to  the  royal  Hildegardis.  As 
Froda,  after  the  northern  fashion,  remained  in  full 
armor,  the  golden  image  of  Aslauga  gleamed  from 
his  silver  breastplate  full  before  the  eyes  of  the 
haughty  lady.  She  smiled  scornfully,  as  if  conscious 
that  it  depended  on  her  will  to  drive  that  image  from 
the  breast  and  from  the  heart  of  the  stranger  knight. 
Then  suddenly  a  clear,  golden  light  passed  through 
the  hall,  so  that  Hildegardis  said,  "Oh,  the  keen 
lightning ! "  and  covered  her  eyes  with  both  her 
hands.  But  Froda  looked  into  the  dazzling  radiance 
with  a  joyful  gaze  of  welcome.  At  this  Hildegardis 
feared  him  yet  more,  though  at  the  same  time  she 
thought,  "  This  loftiest  and  most  mysterious  of  men 
must  be  born  for  me  alone."  Yet  could  she  not  for- 
bear, almost  against  her  will,  to  look  from  time  to 
time  in  friendly  tenderness  on  the  poor  Edwald,  who 
sat  there  silent,  and  with  a  sweet  smile  seemed  to 
pity  and  to  mock  his  own  suffering  and  his  own  vain 
hopes. 

When  the  two  knights  were  alone  in  their  sleep- 
ing-chamber, Edwald  looked  for  a  long  time  in  si- 
lence into  the  dewy,  balmy  night.  Then  he  sang  to 
his  lute :  — 

"  A  hero  wise  and  brave, 
A  lowly  tender  youth, 
Are  wandering  through  the  land 
In  steadfast  love  and  ti-uth. 

"  The  hero,  by  his  deeds, 

Both  bliss  and  fame  hath  won, 


ASLAUGA'S   KNIGHT.  203 

And  still,  with  heartfelt  joy, 
The  faithful  child  looked  on." 

But  Froda  took  the  lute  from  his  hands,  and  said, 
*  No,  Edchen,  I  will  teach  you  another  song  ;  listen ! 

"  There's  a  gleam  in  the  hall,  and  liko  morning's  light 

Hath  shone  upon  all  her  presence  bright. 

Suitors  watch  as  she  passes  by  — 

She  may  gladden  their  hearts  by  one  glance  of  her  eye  : 

But  coldly  she  gazeth  upon  the  throng, 

And  they  that  have  sought  her  may  seek  her  long. 

She  turns  her  away  from  the  richly  clad  knight; 

She  heeds  not  the  words  of  the  learned  wight  ; 

The  prince  is  before  her  in  all  his  pride, 

But  other  the  visions  around  her  that  glide. 

Then  tell  me,  in  all  the  wide  world's  space, 

Who  may  e'er  win  that  lady's  grace? 

In  sorrowful  love  there  sits  apart 

The  gentle  squire  who  hath  her  heart; 

They  all  are  deceived  by  fancies  vain, 

And  he  knows  it  not  who  the  prize  shall  gain." 

Edwald  thrilled.  "  As  God  wills,"  said  he,  softly 
to  himself.  "  But  I  cannot  understand  how  such  a 
thing  could  be."  —  "  As  God  wills,"  repeated  Froda. 
The  two  friends  embraced  each  other,  and  soon  after 
fell  into  a  peaceful  slumber. 

Some  days  afterwards,  Froda  sat  in  a  secluded 
bower  of  the  castle  garden,  and  was  reading  in  the 
ancient  book  of  his  lovely  mistress  Aslauga.  It  hap- 
pened at  that  very  time  that  Hildegardis  passed  by. 
She  stood  still,  and  said,  thoughtfully,  "  Strange 
anion  that  you  are  of  knight  and  sage,  how  comes 
it  that  you  bring  forth  so  little  out  of  the  deep  treas- 
ares  of  your  knowledge  ?      And   yet  I  think   you 


204  ASLAUGA'S  KNIGHT. 

must  have  many  a  choice  history  at  your  command, 
even  such  as  that  which  now  lies  open  before  you  ; 
for  I  see  rich  and  bright  pictures  of  knights  and 
ladies  painted  amongst  the  letters."  —  "  It  is,  indeed, 
the  most  surpassing  and  enchanting  history  in  all  the 
world,"  said  Froda  ;  "  but  you  have  neither  patience 
nor  thoughtfulness  to  listen  to  our  wonderful  legends 
of  the  North." 

*•  Why  think  you  so  ?  "  answered  Hildegardis,  with 
that  pride  which  she  rejoiced  to  display  towards 
Froda,  when  she  could  find  courage  to  do  so ;  and, 
placing  herself  on  a  stone  seat  opposite,  she  com- 
manded him  at  once  to  read  something  to  her  out  of 
that  fair  book. 

Froda  began  ;  and  in  the  very  effort  which  he 
made  to  change  the  old  heroic  speech  of  Iceland 
into  the  German  tongue,  his  heart  and  mind  were 
stirred  more  fervently  and  solemnly.  As  he  looked 
up  from  time  to  time,  he  beheld  the  countenance  of 
Hildegardis  beaming  in  ever-growing  beauty  with 
joy,  wonder,  and  interest ;  and  the  thought  passed 
through  his  mind  whether  this  could  indeed  be  his 
destined  bride,  to  whom  Aslauga  herself  was  guid- 
ing him. 

Then  suddenly  the  characters  became  strangely 
confused ;  it  seemed  as  if  the  pictures  began  to 
move,  so  that  he  was  obliged  to  stop.  While  he 
fixed  his  eyes  with  a  strong  effort  upon  the  book, 
endeavoring  to  drive  away  this  strange  confusion, 
he  heard  a  well-known,  sweetly  solemn  voice,  which 


ASLAUGA'S  KNIGHT.  205 

said,  "  Leave  a  little  space  for  me,  fair  lady.  The 
history  which  that  knight  is  reading  to  you  relates 
to  me ;  and  I  hear  it  gladly." 

Before  the  eyes  of  Froda,  as  he  raised  them  from 
his  book,  sat  Aslaiiga  in  all  the  glory  of  her  flowing 
golden  locks  beside  Hildegardis,  on  the  seat.  With 
tears  of  affright  in  her  eyes,  the  maiden  sank  back 
and  fainted.  Solemnly,  yet  graciously,  Aslauga 
warned  her  knight  with  a  motion  of  her  fair  right 
hand,  and  vanished. 

"  What  have  I  done  to  you,"  said  Hildegardis, 
when  recovered  from  her  swoon  by  his  care,  —  "  what 
have  I  done  to  you,  evil-minded  knight,  that  you  call 
up  your  northern  spectres  before  me,  and  well-nigh 
destroy  me  through  terror  of  your  magic  arts  ? " 
"  Lady,"  answered  Froda,  "  may  God  help  me,  as  I 
have  not  called  hither  the  wondrous  lady  who  but 
now  appeared  to  us.  But  now  her  will  is  known  to 
me,  and  I  commend  you  to  God's  keeping." 

With  that  he  walked  thoughtfully  out  of  the 
bower.  Hildegardis  fled  in  terror  from  the  gloomy 
shade ;  and,  rushing  out  on  the  opposite  side, 
reached  a  fair  open  grass-plot,  where  Edwald,  in  the 
soft  glow  of  twilight,  was  gathering  flowers ;  and, 
meeting  her  with  a  courteous  snjile,  ofiered  her  a 
nosegay  of  narcissus  and  pansies. 


^tt 

^^ 

fi 

^^^m 

"^ 

CHAPTER  IV. 

At  length  the  day  fixed  for  the  tournament  ar 
rived ;  and  a  distinguished  noble,  appointed  by  the 
German  emperor,  arranged  all  things  in  the  most 
magnificent  and  sumptuous  guise  for  the  solemn  fes- 
tival. The  field-combat  opened  wide,  and  fair,  and 
level ;  thickly  strewn  with  the  finest  sand,  so  that 
both  man  and  horse  might  find  sure  footing ;  and, 
like  a  pure  field  of  snow,  it  shone  forth  from  the 
midst  of  the  flowery  plain.  Rich  hangings  of  silk 
from  Arabia,  curiously  embroidered  with  Indian 
gold,  adorned  with  their  various  colors  the  lists  in- 
closing the  space,  and  hung  from  the  lofty  galleries 
which  had  been  erected  for  the  ladies  and  the  nobles 
who  were  to  behold  the  combat.  At  the  upper  end, 
under  a  canopy  of  majestic  arches  richly  wrought  in 
gold,  was  the  place  of  the  Lady  Hildegardis.  Green 
wreaths  and  garlands  waved  gracefully  between  the 
glittering  pillars  in  the  soft  breezes  of  July.  And 
with  impatient  eyes  the  multitude,  who  crowded  be- 
yond the  lists,  gazed  upwards^  expecting  the  appear- 
ance of  the  fairest  maiden  of  Germany ;  and  were 
only  at  times  drawn  to  another  part  by  the  stately 
approach  of  the  combatants.  Oh,  how  many  a  bright 
suit  of  armor,  how  many  a  silken,  richly  embroidered 


ASLAUGA'S   KNIGHT.  207 

mantle,  how  many  a  lofty  waving  plume  was  here  to 
be  seen !  The  splendid  troop  of  knights  moved 
within  the  lists,  greeting  and  conversing  with  each 
other,  as  a  bed  of  flowers  stirred  by  a  breath  of 
wind:  —  but  the  flower-stems  had  grown  to  lofty 
trees,  the  yellow  and  white  flower-leaves  had  changed 
to  gold  and  silver,  and  the  dew-drops  to  pearls  and 
diamonds.  For  whatever  was  most  fair  and  costly, 
most  varied  and  full  of  meaning,  had  these  noble 
knights  collected  in  honor  of  this  day.  Many  an  eye 
was  turned  on  Froda,  who,  without  scarf,  plume,  or 
mantle,  with  his  shining  silver  breastplate,  on  which 
appeared  the  golden  image  of  Aslauga,  and  with  his 
well- wrought  helmet  of  golden  locks,  shone,  in  the 
midst  of  the  crowd,  like  polished  brass.  Others, 
again,  there  were,  who  took  pleasure  in  looking  at 
the  young  Edwald ;  his  whole  armor  was  covered  by 
a  mantle  of  white  silk,  embroidered  in  azure  and 
silver,  as  his  whole  helmet  was  concealed  by  a  wav- 
ing plume  of  white  feathers.  He  was  arrayed  with 
almost  feminine  elegance ;  and  yet  the  conscious 
power  with  which  he  controlled  his  fiery,  snow-white 
steed  made  known  the  victorious  strength  and  man- 
liness of  the  warlike  stripling. 

In  strange  contrast  appeared  the  tall  and  almost 
gigantic  figure  of  a  knight  clothed  in  a  mantle  of 
black  glossy  bear-skin,  bordered  with  costly  fur, 
but  without  any  ornament  of  shining  metal.  His 
very  helmet  was  covered  with  dark  bear-skin ;  and, 
instead  of  plumes,  a  mass  of  blood-red  horse-hair 


208  ASLAUGA'S   KNIGHt. 

hung  like  a  flowing  mane  profusely  on  every  side. 
Well  did  Froda  and  Edwald  remember  that  dark 
knight;  for  he  was  the  uncourteous  guest  of  the 
hostelry :  he  also  seemed  to  remark  the  two  knights ; 
for  he  turned  his  unruly  steed  suddenly  round,  forced 
his  way  through  the  crowd  of  warriors,  and,  after  he 
had  spoken  over  the  inclosure  to  a  hideous,  bronze- 
colored  woman,  sprang  with  a  wild  leap  across  the 
lists,  and,  with  the  speed  of  an  arrow,  vanished  out 
of  sight.  The  old  woman  looked  after  him  with  a 
friendly  nod.  The  assembled  people  laughed  as  at 
a  strange  masking  device  ;  but  Edwald  and  Froda 
had  their  own  almost  shuddering  thoughts  concern- 
ing it,  which,  however,  neither  imparted  to  the  other. 

The  kettle-drums  rolled,  the  trumpets  sounded, 
and,  led  by  the  aged  duke,  Hildegardis  advanced, 
richly  appareled,  but  more  dazzling  through  the 
brightness  of  her  own  beauty.  She  stepped  forward 
beneath  the  arches  of  the  golden  bower,  and  bowed 
to  the  assembly.  The  knights  bent  low,  and  the 
feeling  rushed  into  many  a  heart,  "  There  is  no  man 
on  earth  who  can  deserve  a  bride  so  queenly."  When 
Froda  bowed  his  head,  it  seemed  to  him  as  if  the 
golden  radiance  of  Aslauga's  tresses  floated  before 
his  sight ;  and  his  spirit  rose  in  joy  and  pride  that 
his  lady  held  him  worthy  to  be  so  often  reminded  of 
her. 

And  now  the  tournament  began.  At  first  the 
knights  strove  with  blunted  swords  and  battle-axes  ; 
then  they  ran  their  course  with  lances  man  to  man ; 


ASLAUGA'S    KNIGli'l  209 

but  at  last  they  divided  into  two  equal  parties,  and  a 
general  assault  began,  in  which  every  one  was  al- 
lowed to  use  at  his  own  will  either  sword  or  lance. 
Froda  and  Edwald  equally  surpassed  their  antago- 
nists, as  (measuring  each  his  own  strength  and  that 
of  his  friend)  they  had  foreseen.  And  now  it  must 
be  decided,  by  a  single  combat  with  lances,  to  whom 
the  highest  prize  of  victory  should  belong.  Before 
this  trial  began,  they  rode  slowly  together  into  the 
middle  of  the  course,  and  consulted  where  each 
should  take  his  place.  "  Keep  you  your  guiding- 
star  still  before  your  sight,"  said  Froda,  with  a  smile ; 
"  the  like  gracious  help  will  not  be  wanting  to  me." 
Edwald  looked  round  astonished  for  the  lady  of 
whom  his  friend  seemed  to  speak ;  but  Froda  went 
on.  "  I  have  done  wrong  in  hiding  aught  from  you ; 
but  after  the  tournament  you  shall  know  all.  Now 
lay  aside  all  needless  thoughts  of  wonder,  dear  Ed- 
chen,  and  sit  firm  in  your  saddle  ;  for  I  warn  you 
that  I  shall  run  this  course  with  all  my  might :  not 
my  honor  alone  is  at  stake,  but  the  far  higher  honor 
of  my  lady." 

"  So  also  do  I  purpose  to  demean  myself,"  said 
Edwald,  with  a  friendly  smile.  They  shook  each 
other  by  the  hand,  and  rode  to  their  places. 

Amidst  the  sound  of  trumpets  they  met  again, 
running  their  course  with  lightning  speed ;  the 
lances  shivered  with  a  crash,  the  horses  staggered, 
the  knights,  firm  in  their  saddles,  pulled  them  up, 
and  rode  back  to  their  places.  But  as  they  prepared 
14 


210  ASLAUGA'S  KNIGHT. 

for  another  course,  PMwald's  white  steed  snorted  in 
wild  affright,  and  Froda's  powerful  chestnut  reared 
up  foaming. 

It  was  plain  that  the  two  noble  animals  shrunk 
from  a  second  hard  encounter  ;  but  their  riders  held 
them  fast  with  spur  and  bit,  and,  firm  and  obedient, 
they  again  dashed  forward  at  the  second  call  of  the 
trumpet.  Edwald,  who  by  one  deep,  ardent  gaze  on 
the  beauty  of  his  mistress  had  stamped  it  afresh  on 
his  soul,  cried  aloud  at  the  moment  of  encounter, 
"  Hildegardis ! "  and  so  mightily  did  his  lance  strike 
his  valiant  adversary,  that  Froda  sank  backwards  on 
his  steed,  with  difficulty  keeping  his  seat  in  his  sad- 
dle, or  holding  firm  in  his  stirrups ;  whilst  Edwald 
flew  by  unshaken,  lowered  his  spear  to  salute  Hilde- 
gardis as  he  passed  her  bower,  and  then,  amidst  the 
loud  applause  of  the  multitude,  rushed  to  his  place, 
ready  for  the  third  course.  And,  ah  !  Hildegardis  her- 
self, overcome  by  surprise,  had  greeted  him  with  a 
blush  and  a  look  of  kindness ;  it  seemed  to  him  as  if 
the  overwhelming  joy  of  victory  were  already  gained. 
But  it  was  not  so ;  for  the  vaHant  Froda,  burning 
with  noble  shame,  had  again  tamed  his  affrighted 
steed,  and,  chastising  him  sharply  with  the  spur  for 
his  share  in  this  mischance,  said  in  a  low  voice,  "  Beau- 
tiful and  beloved  lady,  show  thyself  to  me,  —  the 
honor  of  thy  name  is  at  stake."  To  every  other  eye 
it  seemed  as  if  a  golden,  rosy  tinted  summer's  cloud 
was  passing  over  the  deep-blue  sky ;  but  Froda  be- 
held the  heavenly  countenance  of  his  lady,  felt  the 


ASLAUGA'S   KNIGHT.  211 

tvaving  of  her  golden  tresses,  and  cried,  "  Aslauga ! " 
The  two  rushed  together,  and  Edwald  was  hurled 
from  his  saddle  far  upon  the  dusty  plain. 

Froda  remained  for  a  time  motionless,  according 
to  the  laws  of  chivalry,  as  though  waiting  to  see 
whether  any  one  would  dispute  his  victory,  and  ap- 
pearing on  his  mailed  steed  like  some  lofty  statue  of 
brass.  All  around  stood  the  multitude  in  silent 
wonderment.  When  at  length  they  burst  forth  into 
shouts  of  triumph,  he  beckoned  earnestly  with  his 
hand,  and  all  were  again  silent.  He  then  sprang 
lightly  from  his  saddle,  and  hastened  to  the  spot 
where  the  fallen  Edwald  was  striving  to  rise.  He 
pressed  him  closely  to  his  breast,  led  his  snow-white 
steed  towards  him,  and  would  not  be  denied  holding 
the  stirrups  of  the  youth  whilst  he  mounted.  Then 
he  bestrode  his  own  steed,  and  rode  by  Edwald's 
side  towards  the  golden  bower  of  Hildegardis,  where 
with  lowered  spear  and  open  visor,  he  thus  spoke : 
"  Fairest  of  all  living  ladies,  I  bring  you  here  Ed- 
wald, your  knightly  bridegroom,  before  whose  lance 
and  sword  all  the  knights  of  this  tournament  have 
fallen  away,  I  only  excepted,  who  can  make  no  claim 
to  the  choicest  prize  of  victory,  since  I,  as  the  image 
on  my  breastplate  may  show,  already  serve  another 
mistress." 

The  duke  was  even  now  advancing  towards  the 
two  warriors,  to  lead  them  into  the  golden  bower ; 
but  Hildegardis  restrained  him  with  a  look  of  dis- 
pleasure,  saying    immediately,    while    her    cheeks 


212  ASLAUGA'S   KNIGHT. 

glowed  with  anger,  "  Then  you  seem,  Sir  Froda,  the 
Danish  knight,  to  serve  your  lady  ill ;  for  even  now 
you  openly  styled  me  the  fairest  of  living  ladies." 

"That  did  I,"  answered  Froda,  bending  court- 
eously; "because  my  fair  mistress  belongs  to  the 
dead." 

A  slight  shudder  passed  at  these  words  through 
the  assembly,  and  through  the  heart  of  Hildegardis ; 
but  soon  the  anger  of  the  maiden  blazed  forth  again, 
and  the  more  because  the  most  wonderful  and  ex- 
cellent knight  she  knew  had  scorned  her  for  the 
sake  of  a  dead  mistress. 

"  I  make  known  to  all,"  she  said  with  solemn  ear- 
nestness, "  that  according  to  the  just  decree  of  my  im- 
perial uncle,  this  hand  can  never  belong  to  a  van- 
quished knight,  however  noble  and  honorable  he 
may  otherwise  have  proved  himself  As  the  con- 
queror of  this  tournament,  therefore,  is  bound  to 
another  service,  this  combat  concerns  me  not ;  and 
I  depart  hence  as  I  came,  a  free  and  unbetrothed 
maiden." 

The  duke  seemed  about  to  reply ;  but  she  turned 
haughtily  away,  and  left  the  bower.  Suddenly,  a 
gust  of  wind  shook  the  green  wreaths  and  garlands, 
and  they  fell  untwined  and  rustling  behind  her.  In 
this  the  people,  displeased  with  the  pride  of  Hilde- 
gardis, thought  they  beheld  an  omen  of  punishment, 
and  with  jeering  words  noticed  it  as  they  departed. 


CHAPTER  V. 

The  two  knights  had  returned  to  their  apartments 
in  deep  silence.  When  they  arrived  there,  Edwald 
caused  himself  to  be  disarmed,  and  laid  every  piece 
of  his  fair,  shining  armor  together  with  a  kind  of 
tender  care,  almost  as  if  he  were  burying  the  corpse 
of  a  beloved  friend.  Then  he  beckoned  to  his 
squires  to  leave  the  chamber,  took  his  lute  on  his 
arm,  and  sang  the  following  song  to  its  notes :  — 

"  Bury  them,  bury  them  out  of  sight, 
For  hope  and  fame  are  fled; 
And  peaceful  resting  and  quiet  night 
Are  all  now  left  for  the  dead." 

"  You  will  stir  up  my  anger  against  your  lute," 
said  Froda.  "  You  had  accustomed  it  to  more  joy- 
ful songs  than  this.  It  is  too  good  for  a  passing-bell, 
and  you  too  good  to  toll  it.  I  tell  you  yet,  my  young 
hero,  all  will  end  gloriously." 

Edwald  looked  awhile  with  wonder  in  his  face,  and 
he  answered  kindly :  "  Beloved  Froda,  if  it  dis- 
pleases you,  I  will  surely  sing  no  more."  But,  at  the 
same  time,  he  struck  a  few  sad  chords,  which  sounded 
infinitely  sweet  and  tender.  Then  the  northern 
knight,  much  moved,  clasped  him  in  his  arms,  and 


214  ASLAUGA'S    KNIGHT. 

said :  "  Dear  Edchen,  sing  and  say  and  do  whatever 
pleases  you  ;  it  shall  ever  rejoice  me.  But  you  may 
well  believe  me,  for  I  speak  not  this  without  a  spirit 
of  presage  —  your  sorrow  shall  change  ;  whether  to 
death  or  life  I  know  not,  but  great  and  overpowering 
joy  awaits  you."  Edwald  rose  firmly  and  cheerfully 
from  his  seat,  seized  his  companion's  arm  with  a 
strong  grasp,  and  walked  forth  with  him  through  the 
blooming  alleys  of  the  garden  into  the  balmy  air. 

At  that  very  hour,  an  aged  woman,  muffled  in 
many  a  covering,  was  led  secretly  to  the  apartment 
of  the  Lady  Hildegardis.  The  appearance  of  the 
dark  complexioned  stranger  was  mysterious;  and 
she  had  gathered  round  her  for  some  time,  by  many 
feats  of  jugglery,  a  part  of  the  multitude  returning 
home  from  the  tournament,  but  had  dispersed  them 
at  last  in  wild  affright.  Before  this  happened,  the 
tire-woman  of  Hildegardis  had  hastened  to  her  mis- 
tress, to  entertain  her  with  an  account  of  the  rare 
and  pleasant  feats  of  the  bronze-colored  woman. 
The  maidens  in  attendance,  seeing  their  lady  deeply 
moved,  and  wishing  to  banish  her  melancholy,  bade 
the  tire-woman  bring  the  old  stranger  hither.  Hil- 
degardis forbade  it  not,  hoping  that  she  should  thus 
divert  the  attention  of  her  maidens,  while  she  gave 
herself  up  more  deeply  and  earnestly  to  the  varying 
imaginations  which  flitted  through  her  mind. 

The  messenger  found  the  place  already  deserted, 
and  the  strange  old  woman  alone  in  the  midst,  laugh 
Ing  immoderately.     When  questioned  by  her,  she 


ASLAUGA'S   DAUGHTER.  215 

did  not  deny  that  she  had  all  at  once  taken  the  form 
of  a  monstrous  owl,  announcing  to  the  spectators  in 
a  screeching  voice,  that  she  was  the  Devil,  —  and 
that  every  one  upon  this  rushed  screaming  home. 

The  tire-woman  trembled  at  the  fearful  jest,  but 
durst  not  return  to  ask  again  the  pleasure  of  Hilde- 
gardis,  whose  discontented  mood  she  had  already  re- 
marked. She  gave  strict  charge  to  the  old  woman, 
with  many  a  threat  and  promise,  to  demean  herself 
discreetly  in  the  castle  ;  after  which  she  brought  her 
in  by  the  most  secret  way,  that  none  of  those  whom 
she  had  terrified  might  see  her  enter. 

The  aged  crone  now  stood  before  Hildegardis, 
and  winked  to  her,  in  the  midst  of  her  low  and  hum- 
ble salutation,  in  a  strangely  familiar  manner,  as 
though  there  were  some  secret  between  them.  The 
lady  felt  an  involuntary  shudder,  and  could  not  with- 
draw her  gaze  from  the  features  of  that  hideous 
countenance,  hateful  as  it  was  to  her.  The  curiosity 
which  had  led  the  rest  to  desire  a  sight  of  the 
strange  w^oman  was  by  no  means  gratified ;  for  she 
performed  none  but  the  most  common  tricks  of 
jugglery  and  related  only  well-known  tales,  so  that 
the  tire-woman  felt  wearied  and  indifferent;  and, 
ashamed  of  having  brought  the  stranger,  she  stole 
away  unnoticed.  Several  other  maidens  followed  her 
example ;  and  as  these  withdrew,  the  old  crone 
twisted  her  mouth  into  a  smile,  and  repeated  the 
same  hideous  confidential  wink  towards  the  lady. 
Hildegardis  could  not  understand  what  attracted  her 


216  ASLAUGA'S   KNIGHT. 

in  the  jests  and  tales  of  the  bronze-colored  woman  ; 
but  so  it  was,  that  in  her  whole  life  she  had  never 
bestowed  such  attention  on  the  words  of  any  one. 
Still  the  old  woman  went  on  and  on,  and  already  the 
night  looked  dark  without  the  windows ;  but  the  at- 
tendants who  still  remained  with  Hildegardis  had 
sunk  into  a  deep  sleep,  and  had  lighted  none  of  the 
wax-tapers  in  the  apartment. 

Then,  in  the  dusky  gloom,  the  dark  old  crone  rose 
from  the  low  seat  on  which  she  had  been  sitting,  as 
if  she  now  felt  herself  well  at  ease,  advanced  to- 
wards Hildegardis,  who  sat  as  if  spell-bound  with 
terror,  placed  herself  beside  her  on  the  purple 
couch,  and  embracing  her  in  her  long  dry  arms  with 
a  hateful  caress,  whispered  a  few  words  in  her  ear. 
It  seemed  to  the  lady  as  if  she  uttered  the  names  of 
Froda  and  Edwald ;  and  from  them  came  the  sound 
of  a  flute,  which,  clear  and  silvery  as  were  its  tones, 
seemed  to  lull  her  into  a  trance.  She  could  indeed 
move  her  limbs,  but  only  to  follow  those  sounds, 
which  like  a  silver  net-work  floated  round  the 
hideous  form  of  the  old  woman.  She  moved  from 
the  chamber,  and  Hildegardis  followed  her  through 
all  her  slumbering  maidens,  still  singing  softly  as 
she  went,  "  Ye  maidens,  ye  maidens,  I  wander  by 
night." 

Without  the  castle,  accompanied  by  squire  and 
groom,  stood  the  gigantic  Bohemian  warrior;  he 
laid  on  the  shoulders  of  the  croiie  a  bag  of  gold  so 
heavy  that  she  sank  half  whimpering,  half  laughing 


ASLAUGA'S   KNIGHT.  217 

on  the  ground  ;  then  lifted  the  entranced  Hildegar- 
dis  on  his  steed,  and  galloped  with  her  silently  into 
the  ever-deepening  gloom  of  night. 

"  All  ye  noble  lords  and  knights,  who  yesterday 
contended  gallantly  for  the  prize  of  victory  and  the 
hand  of  the  peerless  Hildegardis,  arise,  arise  !  sad- 
dle your  steeds,  and  to  the  rescue !  The  peerless 
Hildegardis  is  carried  away  ! " 

Thus  proclaimed  many  a  herald  through  castle 
and  town,  in  the  bright  red  dawn  of  the  following 
day ;  and  on  all  sides  rose  the  dust  from  the  tread 
of  knights  and  noble  squires  along  those  roads  by 
which  so  lately,  in  the  evening  twilight,  Hildegardis 
in  proud  repose  had  gazed  on  her  approaching 
suitors. 

Two  of  them,  well  known  to  us,  remained  insepa- 
rably together  ;  but  they  knew  as  little  as  the  others 
whether  they  had  taken  the  right  direction  ;  for  how 
and  when  the  adored  lady  could  have  disappeared 
from  her  apartments,  w^as  still  to  the  whole  castle  a 
fearful  and  mysterious  secret. 

Edwald  and  Froda  rode  as  long  as  the  sun  moved 
over  their  heads,  unwearied  as  he ;  and  now  when 
he  sank  in  the  waves  of  the  river,  they  thought  to 
win  the  race  from  him,  and  still  spurred  on  their 
jaded  steeds.  But  the  noble  animals  staggered 
^nd  panted,  and  the  knights  were  constrained  to 
grant  them  some  little  refreshment  in  a  grassy 
meadow.  Secure  of  bringing  them  back  at  their 
first  call,  their  masters  removed  both  bit  and  curb, 


218  ASLAUGA'S  KNIOHT. 

that  they  might  be  refreshed  with  the  green  pasture, 
and  with  the  deep  blue  waters  of  the  Maine,  while 
they  themselves  reposed  under  the  shade  of  a  neigh- 
boring thicket  of  alders. 

And  deep  in  the  cool  dark  shade,  there  shone,  as 
it  were,  a  mild  but  clear,  sparkling  light,  and  checked 
the  speech  of  Froda,  who  at  that  moment  was  be- 
ginning to  tell  his  friend  the  tale  of  his  knightly  ser- 
vice to  his  sovereign  lady,  which  had  been  delayed 
hitherto,  first  by  Edwald's  sadness,  and  then  by  the 
haste  of  their  journey.  Ah,  well  did  Froda  know 
that  lovely  golden  light !  "  Let  us  follow  it,  Ed- 
chen,"  said  he  in  a  low  tone,  "  and  leave  the  horses 
awhile  to  their  pasture."  Edwald  in  silence  followed 
his  companion's  advice.  A  secret  voice,  half  sweet, 
half  fearful,  seemed  to  tell  him  that  here  was  the 
path,  the  only  right  path  to  Hildegardis.  Once  only 
he  said  in  astonishment,  "  Never  before  have  I  seen 
the  evening  glow  shine  on  the  leaves  so  brightly." 
Froda  shook  his  head  with  a  smile,  and  they  pursued 
in  silence  their  unknown  track. 

When  they  came  forth  on  the  other  side  of  the 
alder-thicket  upon  the  bank  of  the  Maine,  which 
almost  wound  round  it,  Edwald  saw  well  that  another 
glow  than  that  of  evening  was  shining  on  them  ;  for 
dark  clouds  of  night  already  covered  the  heavens, 
and  the  guiding  light  stood  fixed  on  the  shore  of  the 
river.  It  lit  up  the  waves,  so  that  they  could  see  a 
high,  woody  island  in  the  midst  of  the  stream,  and  a 
boat  on  the  hither  side  of  the  shore  fast  bound  to  a 


ASLAUGA'S  KNIGHT.  219 

Btake.  But  on  approaching,  the  knights  saw  much 
more  ;  —  a  troop  of  horsemen  of  strange  and  for- 
eign appearance  were  all  asleep,  and  in  the  midst  of 
them,  slumbering  on  cushions,  a  female  form  in  white 
garments. 

"  Hildegardis !  "  murmured  Edwald  to  himself 
with  a  smile,  and  at  the  same  time  he  drew  his  sword 
in  readiness  for  the  combat  as  soon  as  the  robbers 
should  awake,  and  beckoned  to  Froda  to  raise  the 
sleeping  lady,  and  convey  her  to  a  place  of  safety. 
But  at  this  moment  something  like  an  owl  passed 
whizzing  over  the  dark  squadron ;  and  they  all 
started  up  with  clattering  arms  and  hideous  outcries. 
A  wild,  unequal  combat  arose  in  the  darkness  of 
night,  for  that  beaming  light  had  disappeared. 
Froda  and  Edwald  were  driven  asunder,  and  only  at 
a  distance  heard  each  other's  mighty  war-cry.  Hil- 
degardis, startled  from  her  magic  sleep,  uncertain 
whether  she  were  waking  or  dreaming,  fled  bewil- 
dered and  weeping  bitterly  into  the  deep  shades  of 
the  alder-thicket. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Froda  felt  his  arm  grow  weary,  and  the  warm 
blood  was  flowing  from  two  wounds  in  his  shoulder ; 
he  wished  so  to  lie  down  in  death  that  he  might  rise 
up  with  honor  from  his  bloody  grave  to  the  exalted 
lady  whom  he  served.  He  cast  his  shield  behind  him, 
grasped  his  sword-hilt  with  both  hands,  and  rushed 
wildly,  with  a  loud  war-cry,  upon  the  affrighted  foe. 
Instantly  he  heard  some  voices  cry,  "  It  is  the  rage 
of  the  northern  heroes  which  has  come  upon  him." 
And  the  whole  troop  were  scattered  in  dismay,  while 
the  exhausted  knight  remained  wounded  and  alone 
in  the  darkness. 

Then  the  golden  hair  of  Aslauga  gleamed  once 
more  in  the  alder-shade  ;  and  Froda  said,  leaning, 
through  weariness,  on  his  sword,  "  I  think  not  that  I 
am  wounded  to  death  ;  but  whenever  that  time  shall 
come,  0  beloved  lady,  wilt  thou  not  indeed  appear  to 
me  in  all  thy  loveliness  and  brightness  ? "  A  soft 
"  Yes  "  breathed  against  his  cheek,  and  the  golden 
light  vanished. 

But  now  Hildegardis  came  forth  from  the  thicket, 
half  fainting  with  terror,  and  said  feebly,  "  Within  is 
the  fair  and  frightful  spectre  of  the  North  ;  without 


ASLAUGA'S   KNIGHT  221 

is  the  battle :  —  O  merciful  Heaven  !   whither  shall 
I  go?" 

Then  Froda  approached  to  soothe  the  affrighted 
one,  to  speak  some  words  of  comfort  to  her,  and  to 
inquire  after  Edwald ;  but  wild  shouts  and  the  rat- 
tling of  armor  announced  the  return  of  the  Bohe- 
mian warriors.  With  haste  P'roda  led  the  maiden  to 
the  boat,  pushed  off  from  the  shore,  and  rowed  her 
with  the  last  effort  of  his  failing  strength  towards  the 
island  which  he  had  observed  in  the  midst  of  the 
stream.  But  the  pursuers  had  already  kindled 
torches,  and  waved  them  sparkling  here  and  there : 
by  this  light  they  soon  discovered  the  boat ;  they  saw 
that  the  dreaded  Danish  knight  was  bleeding,  and 
gained  fresh  courage  for  their  pursuit.  Hardly  had 
Froda  pushed  the  boat  to  the  shore  of  the  island, 
before  he  perceived  a  Bohemian  on  the  other  side 
in  another  skiff;  and  soon  afterwards  the  greater 
number  of  the  enemy  embarked  to  row  towards  the 
island.  "  To  the  wood,  fair  maiden,"  he  whispered, 
as  soon  as  he  had  landed  Hildegardis  on  the  shore : 
"there  conceal  yourself,  whilst  I  endeavor  to  pre- 
vent the  landing  of  the  robbers."  But  Hildegardis, 
clinging  to  his  arm,  whispered  again,  "  Do  I  not  see 
that  you  are  pale  and  bleeding?  and  would  you  have 
me  expire  with  terror  in  the  dark  and  lonely  clefts 
of  this  rock  ?  Ah !  and  if  your  northern  gold- 
haired  spectre  were  to  appear  again  and  seat  herself 
beside  me  !  Think  you  that  I  do  not  see  her  there 
now,  shining  through  the  thicket ! " — "  She  shines  !  ** 


222  ASLAUGA'S  KNIGHT. 

echoed  Froda;  and  new  strength  and  hope  ran 
through  every  vein.  He  climbed  the  hill,  following 
the  gracious  gleam  ;  and  Hildegardis,  though  trem- 
bling at  the  sight,  went  readily  with  her  companion, 
saying  only,  from  time  to  time,  in  a  low  voice,  "  Ah, 
Sir  Knight !  —  my  noble,  wondrous  knight !  —  leave 
me  not  here  alone  ;  that  would  be  my  death."  The 
knight,  soothing  her  courteously,  stepped  ever  on- 
wards through  the  darkness  of  dell  and  forest ;  for 
already  he  heard  the  sound  of  the  Bohemians  land- 
ing on  the  shore  of  the  island.  Suddenly  he  stood 
before  a  cave  thick-covered  with  underwood ;  and 
the  gleam  disappeared.  "  Here,  then,"  he  whispered, 
endeavoring  to  hold  the  branches  asunder.  For  a 
moment  she  paused,  and  said,  "  If  you  should  but 
let  the  branches  close  again  behind  me,  and  I  were 
to  remain  alone  with  spectres  in  this  cave !  But, 
Froda,  you  will  surely  follow  me  —  a  trembling, 
hunted  child  as  T  am  ?  Will  you  not  ?  "  Without 
more  misgivings  she  passed  through  the  branches ; 
and  the  knight,  who  would  willingly  have  remained 
without  as  a  guard,  followed  her.  Earnestly  he  lis- 
tened through  the  stillness  of  night,  whilst  Hildegar- 
dis hardly  dared  to  draw  her  breath.  Then  was 
heard  the  tramp  of  an  armed  man,  coming  ever 
nearer  and  nearer,  and  now  close  to  the  entrance  of 
the  cave.  In  vain  did  Froda  strive  to  free  himself 
from  the  trembling  maiden.  Already  the  branches 
before  the  entrance  were  cracking  and  breaking,  and 
Froda  sighed   deeply.     "  Must,  I  then,  fall   like  a 


ASLAUGA'S  KNIGHT.  223 

lurking  fugitive,  entangled  in  a  woman's  garments  ? 
It  is  a  base  death  to  die.  But  can  I  cast  this  half- 
fainting  creature  away  from  me  on  the  dark  hard 
earth,  perhaps  into  some  deep  abyss  ?  Come  then 
what  will,  thou,  Lady  Aslauga,  knowest  that  I  die  an 
honorable  death  ! " 

"  Froda  !  Hildegardis  !  "  breathed  a  gentle,  well- 
known  voice  at  the  entrance ;  and  recognizing  Ed- 
wald,  Froda  bore  the  lady  towards  him  into  the 
starlight,  saying,  "  She  will  die  of  terror  in  our  sight 
in  this  deep  cavern.  Is  the  foe  near  at  hand  ? " 
"  Most  of  them  lie  lifeless  on  the  shore,  or  swim 
bleeding  through  the  waves,"  said  Edwald.  "  Set 
your  mind  at  rest,  and  repose  yourself  Are  you 
wounded,  beloved  Froda  ?  "  He  gave  this  short  ac- 
count to  his  astonished  companions  —  how,  in  the 
darkness,  he  had  mixed  with  the  Bohemians  and 
pressed  into  the  skiff,  and  that  it  had  been  easy 
to  him  on  landing  to  disperse  the  robbers  entirely, 
who  supposed  that  they  were  attacked  by  one  of 
their  own  crew,  and  thought  themselves  bewitched. 
"  They  began  at  last  to  fall  on  one  another,"  —  so 
he  ended  his  history,  — "  and  we  have  only  now  to 
wait  for  the  morning  to  conduct  the  lady  home  ;  for 
those  who  are  wandering  about  of  that  owl-squadron 
will  doubtless  hide  themselves  from  the  eye  of  day." 
While  speaking,  he  had  skillfully  and  carefully  ar- 
ranged a  couch  of  twigs  and  moss  for  Hildegardis  ; 
and  when  the  wearied  one,  after  uttering  some  gen- 
tle words  of  gratitude,  had  sunk  into  a  slumber,  he 


224  ASLAUGA'S    KNIGHT. 

began,  as  well  as  the  darkness  would  allow,  to  bind 
up  the  wounds  of  his  friend.  During  this  anxious 
task,  while  the  dark  boughs  of  the  trees  murmured 
over  their  heads,  and  the  rippling  of  the  stream  was 
heard  from  afar,  Froda,  in  a  low  voice,  made  known 
to  his  brother  in  arms  to  the  service  of  what  lady  he 
was  bound.  Edwald  listened  with  a  deep  attention  ; 
but  at  last  he  said  tenderly,  "  Trust  me,  the  noble 
Princess  Aslauga  will  not  resent  it,  if  you  pledge 
yourself  to  this  earthly  beauty  in  faithful  love.  Ah  ! 
even  now,  doubtless,  you  are  shining  in  the  dreams 
of  Hildegardis,  richly-gifted  and  happy  knight !  I 
will  not  stand  in  your  way  with  my  vain  wishes  ;  I 
see  now  clearly  that  she  can  never  love  me.  There- 
fore I  will  this  very  day  hasten  to  the  war  which  so 
many  valiant  knights  of  Germany  are  waging  in  the 
heathen  land  of  Prussia ;  and  the  black  cross,  which 
distinguishes  them  for  warriors  of  the  Church,  I  will 
lay  as  the  best  balm  on  my  throbbing  heart.  Take, 
then,  dear  Froda,  that  fair  hand  which  you  have  won 
in  battle,  and  live  henceforth  a  life  of  surpassing  hap- 
piness and  joy." 

"  Edwald,"  said  Froda,  gravely,  "  this  is  the  first 
time  that  I  ever  heard  one  word  from  your  lips  which 
a  true  knight  could  not  fulfill.  Do  as  it  pleases  you 
towards  the  fair  and  haughty  Hildegardis  ;  but  As- 
lauga remains  my  mistress  ever,  and  no  other  do  I 
desire  in  life  or  death."  The  youth  was  startled  by 
these  stern  words,  and  made  no  reply.  Both,  with- 
out saying  more  to  each  other,  watched  through  the 
night  in  solemn  thought. 


ASLAUGA'S    KNIGHT.  225 

The  next  morning,  when  the  rising  sun  shone 
brightly  over  the  flowery  plains  around  the  Castle  of 
Hildegardis,  the  watchman  on  the  tower  blew  a  joy- 
ful blast  from  his  horn ;  for  his  keen  eye  had  dis- 
tinguished far  in  the  distance  his  fair  lady,  who  was 
riding  from  the  forest  between  her  two  deliverers ; 
and  from  castle,  town,  and  hamlet  came  forth  many 
a  rejoicing  train  to  assure  themselves  with  their  own 
eyes  of  the  happy  news. 

Hildegardis  turned  to  Edwald  with  eyes  sparkling 
through  tears,  and  said,  "  Were  it  not  for  you,  young 
knight,  they  might  have  sought  long  and  vainly 
before  they  found  the  lost  maiden  or  the  noble  Fro- 
da,  who  would  now  be  lying  in  that  dark  cavern  a 
bleeding  and  lifeless  corse."  Edwald  bowed  lowly 
in  reply,  but  persevered  in  his  wonted  silence.  It 
even  seemed  as  though  an  unusual  grief  restrained 
the  smile  which  erewhile  answered  so  readily,  in 
childlike  sweetness,  to  every  friendly  word. 

The  noble  guardian  of  Hildegardis  had,  in  the 
overflowing  joy  of  his  heart,  prepared  a  sumptuous 
banquet,  and  invited  all  the  knights  and  ladies  pres- 
ent to  attend  it.  Whilst  Froda  and  Edwald,  in  all 
the  brightness  of  their  glory,  were  ascending  the 
steps  in  the  train  of  their  rescued  lady,  Edwald  said 
to  his  friend,  "  Noble,  steadfast  knight,  you  can  never 
love  me  more  !  "  And  as  Froda  looked  in  astonish- 
ment, he  continued,  —  "  Thus  it  is  when  children 
presume  to  counsel  heroes,  however  well  they  may 
mean  it.  Now  have  I  offended  grievously  against 
15 


226  ASLAGUA'S   KNIGHT. 

you,  and  yet  more  against  the  noble  Lady  Aslauga." 
"  Because  you  would  have  plucked  every  flower  of 
your  own  garden  to  gladden  nie  with  them  ?  "  said 
Froda :  "  No  ;  you  are  •  my  gentle  brother  in  arms 
now,  as  heretofore,  dear  Edchen,  and  are  perhaps 
become  yet  dearer  to  me." 

Then  Edwald  smiled  again  in  silent  contentment, 
like  a  flower  after  the  morning  showers  of  May. 

The  eyes  of  Hildegardis  glanced  mildly  and  kindly 
on  him,  and  she  often  conversed  graciously  with  him, 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  since  yesterday,  a  reveren- 
tial awe  seemed  to  separate  her  from  Froda.  But 
Edwald  also  was  much  altered.  However  he  wel- 
comed with  modest  joy  the  favor  of  his  lady,  it  yet 
seemed  as  if  some  barrier  were  between  them  which 
forbade  him  to  entertain  the  most  distant  hope  of 
successful  love. 

It  chanced  that  a  noble  count,  from  the  court 
of  the  Emperor,  was  announced,  who,  being  bound 
on  an  important  embassy,  had  wished  to  pay  his  re- 
spects to  the  lady  Hildegardis  by  the  way.  She 
received  him  gladly ;  and  as  soon  as  the  first  saluta- 
tions were  over,  he  said,  looking  at  her  and  at  Ed- 
wald, "  I  know  not  if  my  good  fortune  may  not  have 
brought  me  hither  to  a  very  joyful  festivity.  That 
would  be  right  welcome  news  to  the  Emperor  my 
master."  Hildegardis  and  Edwald  were  lovely  to 
look  upon  in  their  blushes  and  confusion :  but  the 
count,  perceiving  at  once  that  he  had  been  too  hasty, 
inclined    himself   respectfully   towards    the    young 


ASLAUGA'S  KNIGHT.  227 

knight,  and  said,  "  Pardon  me,  noble  Duke  Edwald, 
my  too  great  forwardness ;  but  I  know  the  wish  of 
my  sovereign,  and  the  hope  to  find  it  ah-eady  fulfilled 
prompted  my  tongue  to  speak."  All  eyes  were  fixed 
inquiringly  on  the  young  hero,  who  answered,  in 
graceful  confusion,  "  It  is  true  ;  the  Emperor,  when 
I  was  last  in  his  camp,  through  his  undeserved  favor, 
raised  me  to  the  rank  of  a  duke.  It  was  my  good 
fortune,  that  in  an  encounter,  some  of  the  enemy's 
horse,  who  had  dared  to  assault  the  sacred  person  of 
the  Emperor,  dispersed  and  fled  on  my  approach." 
The  count  then,  at  the  request  of  Hildegardis,  re- 
lated every  circumstance  of  the  heroic  deed  ;  and  it 
appeared  that  Edwald  had  not  only  rescued  the  Em- 
peror from  the  most  imminent  peril,  but  also,  with 
the  cool  and  daring  skill  of  a  general,  had  gained 
the  victory  which  decided  the  event  of  the  war. 

Surprise  at  first  sealed  the  lips  of  all ;  and  even 
before  their  congratulations  could  begin,  Hildegardis 
had  turned  towards  Edwald,  and  said  in  a  low  voice, 
which  yet,  in  that  silence,  was  clearly  heard  by  all, 
"  The  noble  count  has  made  known  the  wish  of  my 
imperial  uncle ;  and  I  conceal  it  no  longer,  my  own 
.heart's  wish  is  the  same:  I  am  Duke  Edwald's 
bride."  And  with  that  she  extended  to  him  her  fair 
right  hand;  and  all  present  waited  only  till  he 
should  take  it,  before  they  burst  into  a  shout  of  con- 
gratulation. But  Edwald  forbore  to  do  so  ;  he  only 
sunk  on  one  knee  before  his  lady,  saying,  "  God  for- 
bid that  the  lofty  Hildegardis  should  ever  recall  a 


228  ASLAUGA'S  KNIGHT. 

word  spoken  solemnly  to  noble  knights  and  dames. 
To  no  vanquished  knight/  you  said,  'might  the 
hand  of  the  Emperor's  niece  belong '  —  and  behold 
there  Froda,  the  noble  Danish  knight,  my  con- 
queror."  Hildegardis,  with  a  slight  blush,  turned 
hastily  away,  hiding  her  eyes  ;  and  as  Edwald  arose, 
it  seemed  as  though  there  were  a  tear  upon  his 
cheek. 

In  his  clanging  armor  Froda  advanced  to  the  mid- 
dle of  the  hall,  exclaiming,  "  I  declare  my  late  vic- 
tory over  Duke  Edwald  to  have  been  the  chance  of 
fortune,  and  I  challenge  the  noble  knight  to  meet 
me  again  to-morrow  in  the  lists." 

At  the  same  time  he  threw  his  iron  gauntlet  ring- 
ing on  the  pavement. 

But  Edwald  moved  not  to  take  it  up.  On  the  con- 
trary, a  glow  of  lofty  anger  was  on  his  cheeks,  and 
his  eyes  sparkled  with  indignation,  so  that  his  friend 
would  hardly  have  recognized  him ;  and  after  a  si- 
lence he  spoke :  — 

"  Noble  Sir  Froda,  if  I  have  ever  offended  you,  we 
are  now  even.  How  durst  you,  a  warrior  gloriously 
wounded  by  two  sword-strokes,  challenge  a  man  un- 
hurt into  the  lists  to-morrow,  if  you  did  not  despise 
him?" 

"  Forgive  me,  Duke  Edwald,'  answered  Froda, 
somewhat  abashed,  but  with  cheerfulness ;  "  I  have 
Bpoken  too  boldly :  not  till  I  am  completely  cured  do 
I  call  you  to  the  field." 

Then  Edwald  took  up  the  gauntlet  joyfully :  he 


ASLAUGA'S    KNIGHT. 


229 


knelt  once  more  before  Hildegardis,  who,  turning 
away  her  face,  gave  him  her  fair  hand  to  kiss,  and 
walked,  with  his  arm  in  that  of  his  noble  Danisb 
friend,  out  of  the  hall. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

While  Froda's  wounds  were  healing,  Edwald 
would  sometimes  wander,  when  the  shades  of  even- 
ing fell  dark  and  silent  around,  on  the  flowery  ter- 
races beneath  the  windows  of  Hildegardis,  and  sing 
pleasant  little  songs  ;  amongst  others  the  following . 

"  Heal  fast,  heal  fast,  ye  hero-wounds ; 
0  knight,  be  quickly  strong ; 
Beloved  strife 
For  fame  and  life, 
0  tarry  not  too  long !  " 

But  that  one  which  the  maidens  of  the  castle 
loved  best  to  learn  from  him  was  this ;  and  it  was 
perhaps  the  longest  song  that  Edwald  had  ever  sung 
in  his  whole  life  :  — 

•  *•  Would  I  on  earth  were  lying, 

By  noble  hero  slain ; 
So  that  love's  gentle  sighing 
Breath' d  me  to  life  again! 

"  Would  I  an  emperor  were. 
Of  wealth  and  power ! 
Would  I  were  gathering  twigs 
In  woodland  bower ! 

*  Would  that,  in  lone  seclusion, 
I  lived  a  hermit's  life  I 


ASLAUGA'S    KNIGHT.  231 

Would,  amid  wild  confusion, 
I  led  the  battle  strife ! 

"  0  would  the  lot  were  mine, 
In  bower  or  field, 
To  which  my  lady  fair 
Her  smile  would  jdeld !  " 

At  this  time  it  happened,  that  a  man,  who  held 
himself  to  be  very  wise,  and  who  filled  the  office  of 
secretary  to  the  aged  guardian  of  Hildegardis,  came 
to  the  two  knightly  friends  to  propose  a  scheme  to 
them.  His  proposal,  in  few  words,  was  this,  that  as 
Froda  could  gain  no  advantage  from  his  victory,  he 
might  in  the  approaching  combat  suffer  himself  to  be 
thrown  from  his  steed,  and  thus  secure  the  lady  for 
his  comrade,  at  the  same  time  fulfilling  the  wish  of 
the  emperor,  which  might  turn  to  his  advantage 
hereafter  in  many  ways. 

At  this  the  two  friends  at  first  laughed  heartily ; 
but  then  Froda  advanced  gravely  towards  the  secre- 
tary, and  said,  "  Thou  trifler,  doubtless  the  Old  duke 
would  drive  thee  from  his  service  did  he  know  of  thy 
folly,  and  teach  thee  to  talk  of  the  Emperor.  Good 
night,  worthy  sir ;  and  trust  me  that  when  Edwald 
and  I  meet  each  other,  it  will  be  with  all  our  heart 
and  strength." 

The  secretary  hastened  out  of  the  room  with  all 
speed,  and  was  seen  next  morning  to  look  unusually 
pale. 

Soon  after  this,  Froda  recovered  from  his  wounds . 


232  ASLAUGA'S    KNIGHT. 

the  course  was  again  prepared  as  before,  but  crowded 
by  a  still  greater  number  of  spectators  ;  and  in  the 
freshness  of  a  dewy  morning  the  two  knights  ad- 
vanced solemnly  together  to  the  combat. 

"  Beloved  Edwald,"  said  Froda,  in  a  low  voice,  as 
they  went,  "  take  good  heed  to  yourself,  for  neither 
this  time  can  the  victory  be  yours ;  on  that  rose- 
colored  cloud  appears  Aslauga." 

"It  may  be  so,"  answered  Edwald  with  a  quiet 
smile  ;  "  but  under  the  arches  of  that  golden  bower 
shines  Hildegardis,  and  this  time  she  has  not  been 
waited  for." 

The  knights  took  their  places ;  the  trumpets 
sounded :  the  course  began ;  and  Froda's  prophecy 
seemed  to  be  near  its  fulfillment,  for  Edwald  stag- 
gered under  the  stroke  of  his  lance,  so  that  he  let  go 
the  bridle,  seized  the  mane  with  both  hands,  and 
thus  hardly  recovered  his  seat,  whilst  his  high-met- 
tled snow-white  steed  bore  him  wildly  around  the  lists 
without  control.  Hildegardis  also  seemed  to  shrink 
at  the  sight ;  but  the  youth  at  length  reined  in  his 
steed,  and  the  second  course  was  run. 

Froda  shot  like  lightning  along  the  plain,  and  it 
seemed  as  if  the  success  of  the  young  duke  were 
now  hopeless ;  but  in  the  shock  of  their  meeting, 
the  bold  Danish  steed  reared,  starting  aside  as  if  in 
fear ;  the  rider  staggered,  his  stroke  passed  harmless 
by,  and  both  steed  and  knight  fell  clanging  to  the 
ground  before  the  steadfast  spear  of  Edwald,  and  lay 
motionless  upon  the  field. 


ASLAUGA'S  KNIGHT.  233 

Edwald  did  now  as  Froda  had  done  before.  In 
knightly  wise  he  stood  still  awhile  upon  the  spot,  as 
if  waiting  to  see  whether  any  other  adversary  were 
there  to  dispute  his  victory ;  then  he  sprang  from 
his  steed,  and  flew  to  the  assistance  of  his  fallen 
friend. 

He  strove  with  all  his  might  to  release  him  from 
the  weight  of  his  horse  ;  and  presently  Froda  came 
to  himself,  rose  on  his  feet,  and  raised  up  his  charger 
also.  Then  he  lifted  up  his  vizor,  and  greeted  his 
conqueror  with  a  friendly  smile,  though  his  counte- 
nance was  pale.  The  victor  bowed  humbly,  almost 
timidly,  and  said,  "  You,  my  knight,  overthrown  — 
and  by  me  !  I  understand  it  not." 

"  It  was  her  own  will,"  answered  Froda,  smiling. 
"  Come  now  to  your  gentle  bride." 

The  multitude  around  shouted  aloud,  each  lady 
and  knight  bowed  low,  when  the  aged  duke  pointed 
out  to  them  the  lovely  pair,  and  at  his  bidding,  the 
betrothed,  with  soft  blushes,  embraced  each  other 
beneath  the  green  garlands  of  the  golden  bower. 

That  very  day  were  they  solemnly  united  in  the 
chapel  of  the  castle,  for  so  had  Froda  earnestly  de- 
sired :  a  journey  into  a  far-distant  land,  he  said,  lay 
before  him,  and  much  he  wished  to  celebrate  the 
marriage  of  his  friend  before  his  departure. 


T'"^ 

^ 

^la^i 

CHAPTER  VUL 

Toe  tordies  were  baming  dear  in  the  vanlfed 
kails  <^  llie  casfle,  HSd^rarfis  had  just  left  die  aim 
€i  her  lo?er  to  heffn  a  stately  dance  of  eaemoi^ 
widitiie  aged  dofce,  when  EdwaM  beckoned  tolw 
oonqianion,  and  they  went  ftrtb  togetlMr  into  tihe 
moonlit  gaidens  of  the  castle. 

«  Ah,  Froda,  my  noUe,  lofty  hero,"  exd^med  £d- 
vald  after  a  sikncae,  *  were  yon  as  happy  as  I  am! 
But  yoor  eyes  vest  grxivly  and  Aoi^^fatlHlly  on  tfie 
groond,  »-  Mndle  almost  impofienlly  heavranruds. 
It  voold  be  dreadfid,  indeed,  had  the  secret  wish  of 
your  heart  been  to  win  SSQd^ardis,  and  I,  feofiA 
boy,  so  strangely  ferored,  had  stood  in  your  way.* 

<"  Be  at  rest  Edchen,"  answered  the  Danish  hero 
widi  a  sndle.  *Qn  the  word  of  a  kn^ht,  n^ 
thoi^^its  and  yeanni^  coneon  not  your  £iir  l^de- 
gar£s.  Far  Insider  than  erer  does  Aslanga's  va- 
cant ima^  shine  into  my  heart:  hot  now  hear  what 
I  am  goii^  to  refate  to  yon. 

'At  the  veiy  moment  when  we  met  together  in 
the  coarse — oh,  had  I  words  to  mjiress  it  to  yon ! 
— I  was  enwra^ied,  encircled,  danled  fay  Aslangiifs 
golden  tresses^  irfdch  were  waving  all 


ASLAUGA'S  KNIGHT.  _    : 

Even  my  noble  steed  mart  hsTe  beheld  the  appaii- 
^oa,  for  I  felt  him  start  and  rear  mider  me.  I  saw 
you  no  more,  —  the  world  no  more,  —  I  saw  oidj 
the  aagd-^oe  of  Aslauga  close  before  me,  smil- 
Bi^UooiDing  like  a  flower  in  a  sea  of  «iipa>»iny 
wiiidi  floated  roond  her.  My  senses  &iled  me.  Not 
tin  JOB  raised  me  from  beoeadi  my  horse,  did  my 
ecmscioasiiess  return,  and  then  I  knew,  with  exceed- 
ing joy,  that  her  own  giacimifc  ^ikasiin.!!  had  stmck 
me  down.  But  I  felt  a  Strang  weaiinena»  fir  gieatef 
than  my  £dl  alone  could  have  caused,  and  I  felt  as- 
sured at  the  same  time  that  my  lady  was  about  to 
send  me  on  a  fir-diilant  liiHinn  I  hastened  to  i«» 
pOK  fliyself  in  my  chaoib»',  and  a  deep  sleep  im- 
mefiafeeiy  fell  upon  me.  Hien  came  A^mga  in  a 
dicam  to  me,  more  royally  adoraed  iham  ever ;  die 
I^aoed  heisdf  at  the  head  of  my  cooeh,  and  said, 
<  Haste  to  array  thyself  in  all  the  sftkatdtar  of  thy 
sUTer  armor,  fer  thou  art  not  the  wedding-guest 
alone,  tkoa  art  also  the  ^  — 

'  JumI  b^ne  siie  could  ^leak  €t»e  word,  my  dream 
had  minted  away,  and  I  felt  a  longii^  desire  to  fulfill 
her  gTMaotts  command,  and  r^oioed  in  my  heart. 
But  in  die  midst  of  the  festival,  I  seemed  to  mys^ 
msve  loudly  than  in  all  my  fife  befi»e,  and  I  camot 
cease  to  pander  what  that  un^okoi  wwd  (^  my  lady 
soold  be  intended  to  announce.* 

«  You  are  of  a  fir  lofiier  spmt  than  I  am,  Froda,** 
aid  Edwald  after  a  slence,  ''and  I  cannot  soar  with 
you  into  the  sphere  of  your  joys.     But  tell  me,  has  it 


236  ASLAUGA'S   KNIGHT. 

never  awakened  a  deep  pang  within  you  that  you 
serve  a  lady  so  withdrawn  from  you  —  alas  !  a  lady 
who  is  almost  ever  invisible  ?  " 

"  No,  Edwald,  not  so,"  answered  Froda,  his  eyes 
sparkling  with  happiness.  "  For  well  I  know  that 
she  scorns  not  my  service ;  she  has  even  deigned 
sometimes  to  appear  to  me.  Oh,  I  am  in  truth  a 
happy  knight  and  minstrel !  " 

"  And  yet  your  silence  to-day  —  your  troubled 
yearnings  ?  " 

"  Not  troubled,  dear  Edchen  ;  only  so  heartfelt,  so 
fervent  in  the  depth  of  my  heart,  —  and  so  strangely 
mysterious  to  myself  withal.  But  this,  with  all  be- 
longing to  me,  springs  alike  from  the  words  and 
commands  of  Aslauga.  How,  then,  can  it  be  other- 
wise than  something  good  and  fair,  and  tending  to  a 
high  and  noble  aim  ?  " 

A  squire,  who  had  hastened  after  them,  announced 
that  the  knightly  bridegroom  was  expected  for  the 
torch-dance ;  and  as  they  returned,  Edwald  entreated 
his  friend  to  take  his  place  in  the  solemn  dance  next 
to  him  and  Hildegardis.  Froda  inclined  his  head  in 
token  of  friendly  assent. 

The  horns  and  hautboys  had  already  sounded 
their  solemn  invitation  ;  Edwald  hastened  to  give  his 
hand  to  his  fair  bride  ;  and  while  he  advanced  with 
her  to  the  midst  of  the  stately  hall,  Froda  offered 
his  hand  for  the  torch-dance  to  a  noble  lady  who 
Btood  the  nearest  to  him,  without  farther  observing 


ASLAUGA'S  KNIGHT.  237 

her,  and  took  with  her  the  next  place  to  the  wedded 
pair. 

But  how  was  it  when  a  light  began  to  beam  from 
his  companion,  before  which  the  torch  in  his  left 
hand  lost  all  its  brightness  ?  Hardly  dared  he,  in 
sweet  and  trembling  hope,  to  raise  his  eyes  to  the 
lady ;  and  when  at  last  he  ventured,  all  his  boldest 
wishes  and  longings  were  fulfilled.^  Adorned  with 
a  radiant  bridal  crown  of  emeralds,  Aslauga  moved 
in  solemn  loveliness  beside  him,  and  beamed  on  him 
from  amid  the  sunny  light  of  her  golden  hair,  blessing 
him  with  her  heavenly  countenance.  The  amazed 
spectators  could  not  withdraw  their  eyes  from  the 
mysterious  pair  —  the  knight  in  his  light  silver  mail, 
with  the  torch  raised  on  high  in  his  hand,  earnest 
and  joyful,  moving  with  a  measured  step,  as  if  en- 
gaged in  a  ceremony  of  deep  and  mysterious  mean- 
ing. His  lady  beside  him,  rather  floating  than 
dancing,  beaming  light  from  her  golden  hair,  so  that 
you  would  have  thought  the  day  was  shining  into 
the  night ;  and  when  a  look  could  reach  through  all 
the  surrounding  splendor  to  her  face,  rejoicing  heart 
and  sense  with  the  unspeakably  sweet  smile  of  her 
eyes  and  lips. 

Near  the  end  of  the  dance,  she  inclined  towards 
Froda  and  whispered  to  him  with  an  air  of  tender 
confidence,  and  with  the  last  sound  of  the  horns  and 
hautboys  she  had  disapeared. 

1  See  the  Baron  de  la  Motte  Fouqu^'s  Waldemar,  — 

"  Let  none  henceforward  shrink  from  daring  dreams, 
For  earnest  hearts  shall  find  their  dreams  fulfilled  ' 


238  ASLAUGA'S   KNIGHT. 

The  most  curious  spectator  dared  not  questior 
Froda  about  his  partner.  Hildegardis  did  not  seem 
to  have  been  conscious  of  her  presence  ;  but  shortly 
before  the  end  of  the  festival,  Edwald  approached 
his  friend,  and  asked  in  a  whisper,  ''  Was  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  dear  youth,"  answered  Froda ;  "  your  mar- 
riage-dance has  been  honored  by  the  presence  of  the 
most  exalted  beauty  which  has  been  ever  beheld  in 
any  land.  Ah!  and  if  I  rightly  understood  her 
meaning,  you  will  never  more  see  me  stand  sighing 
and  gazing  upon  the  ground.  But  hardly  dare  I 
hope  it.  Now  good-night,  dear  Edchen,  good-night. 
As  soon  as  I  may,  I  will  tell  you  all." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

The  light  and  joyous  dreams  of  morning  still 
played  round  Edwald's  head,  when  it  seemed  as 
though  a  clear  light  encompassed  him.  He  re- 
membered Aslauga ;  but  it  was  Froda,  the  golden 
locks  of  whose  helmet  shone  now  with  no  less  sunny 
brightness  than  the  flowing  hair  of  his  lady.  "  Ah  ! " 
thought  Edwald,  in  his  dream,  "  how  beautiful  has 
my  dear  brother  in  arms  become ! "  And  Froda 
said  to  him,  "  I  will  sing  something  to  you,  Edchen  ; 
but  softly,  so  that  it  may  not  awaken  Hildegardis. 
Listen  to  me. 

"  *  She  glided  in,  bright  as  the  day, 

There  where  her  knight  in  slumber  lay; 
And  in  her  lily  hand  was  seen 
A  band  that  seemed  of  the  moonlight  sheen, 
"  We  are  one,"  she  sang,  as  about  his  hair 
She  twin'd  it,  and  over  her  tresses  fair. 
Beneath  them  the  world  lay  dark  and  drear  : 
But  he  felt  the  touch  of  her  hand  so  dear, 
Uplifting  him  far  above  mortals'  sight, 
While  around  him  were  shed  her  locks  of  light, 
Till  a  garden  fair  lay  about  him  spread  — 
And  this  was  Paradise,  angels  said.'  " 

"  Never  in  your  life  did  you  sing  so  sweetly,"  said 
the  dreaming  Edwald. 


240  ASLAUGA'S   KNIGHT. 

"  That  may  well  be,  Edchen,"  said  Froda,  with  a 
smile,  and  vanished. 

But  Edwald  dreamed  on  and  on,  and  many  other 
visions  passed  before  him,  all  of  a  pleasing  kind, 
although  he  could  not  recall  them,  when,  in  the  full 
light  of  morning,  he  unclosed  his  eyes  with  a  smile. 
Froda  alone,  and  his  mysterious  song,  stood  clear  in 
his  memory.  He  now  knew  full  well  that  his  friend 
was  dead  ;  but  the  thought  gave  him  no  pain,  for  he 
felt  sure  that  the  pure  spirit  of  that  minstrel  warrior 
could  only  find  its  proper  joy  in  the  gardens  of  Para- 
dise, and  in  blissful  solace  with  the  lofty  spirits  of 
the  ancient  times.  He  glided  softly  from  the  side 
of  the  sleeping  Hildegardis  to  the  chamber  of  the 
departed.  He  lay  upon  his  bed  of  rest,  almost  as 
beautiful  as  he  had  appeared  in  the  dream,  and  his 
golden  helmet  was  entwined  with  a  wondrously  shin- 
ing lock  of  hair.  Then  Edwald  made  a  fair  and 
shady  grave  in  consecrated  ground,  summoned  the 
chaplain  of  the  castle,  and  with  his  assistance  laid 
his  beloved  Froda  therein. 

He  came  back  just  as  Hildegardis  awoke ;  she 
beheld,  with  wonder  and  humility,  his  mien  of  chas- 
tened joy,  and  asked  him  whither  he  had  been  so 
early ;  to  which  he  replied,  with  a  smile,  "  I  have 
just  buried  the  corpse  of  my  dearly  loved  Froda, 
who,  this  very  night,  has  passed  away  to  his  golden- 
haired  mistress."  Then  he  related  the  whole  history 
of  Aslauga's  Knight,  and  lived  on  in  subdued,  unruf- 
fled happiness,  though  for  some  time  he  was  even 


ASLAUGxi'S   KNIGHT.  241 

more  silent  and  thoughtful  than  before.  He  was 
often  found  sitting  on  the  grave  of  his  friend,  and 
singing  the  following  song  to  his  lute  :  — 

"  Listening  to  celestial  lays, 
Bending  thy  unclouded  gaze 
On  the  pure  and  living  light, 
Thou  art  blest,  Aslauga's  Knight  I 

**  Send  us  from  thy  bower  on  high 
Many  an  angel-melody, 
Many  a  vision  soft  and  bright, 
Aslauga's  dear  and  faithful  Knight  1*' 


1« 


SINTEAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

In  the  high  castle  of  Drontheim  many  knights 
sat  assembled  to  hold  council  for  the  weal  of  the 
realm  ;  and  joyously  they  caroused  together  till  mid- 
night around  the  huge  stone  table  in  the  vaulted 
hall.  A  rising  storm  drove  the  snow  wildly  against 
the  rattling  windows ;  all  the  oak  doors  groaned,  the 
massive  locks  shook,  the  castle-clock  slowly  and 
heavily  struck  the  hour  of  one.  Then  a  boy,  pale  as 
death,  with  disordered  hair  and  closed  eyes,  rushed 
into  the  hall,  uttering  a  wild  scream  of  terror.  He 
stopped  beside  the  richly  carved  seat  of  the  mighty 
Biorn,  clung  to  the  glittering  knight  with  both  his 
hands,  and  shrieked  in  a  piercing  voice,  "  Knight 
and  father !  father  and  knight !  Death  and  another 
are  closely  pursuing  me  !  " 

An  awful  stillness  lay  like  ice  on  the  whole  assem- 
bly, save  that  the  boy  screamed  ever  the  fearful 
words.  But  one  of  Biorn's  numerous  retainers,  an 
old  esquire,  known  by  the  name  of  Rolf  the  Good, 
advanced   towards  the  terrified  child,  took  him  in 


246  SINTRAM  AND  HIS   COMPANIONS. 

his  arms,  and  half  chanted  this  prayer :  — "  O 
Father,  help  Thy  servant !  I  believe,  and  yet  I  can- 
not believe."  The  boy,  as  if  in  a  dream,  at  once 
loosened  his  hold  of  the  knight ;  and  the  good  Rolf 
bore  him  from  the  hall  unresisting,  yet  still  shedding 
hot  tears  and  murmuring  confused  sounds. 

The  lords  and  knights  looked  at  one  anothei 
much  amazed,  until  the  mighty  Biorn  said,  wildly 
and  fiercely  laughing,  "  Marvel  not  at  that  strange 
boy.  He  is  my  only  son ;  and  has  been  thus  since 
he  was  five  years  old:  he  is  now  twelve.  I  am 
therefore  accustomed  to  see  him  so  ;  though,  at  the 
first,  I  too  was  disquieted  by  it.  The  attack  comes 
upon  him  only  once  in  the  year,  and  always  at  this 
same  time.  But  forgive  me  for  having  spent  so 
many  words  on  my  poor  Sintrara,  and  let  us  pass  on 
to  some  worthier  subject  for  our  discourse." 

Again  there  was  silence  for  a  while ;  then  whis- 
peringly  and  doubtfully  single  voices  strove  to  renew 
their  broken- off  discourse,  but  without  success.  Two 
of  the  youngest  and  most  joyous  began  a  roundelay ; 
but  the  storm  howled  and  raged  so  wildly  without 
that  this  too  was  soon  interrupted.  And  now  they 
all  sat  silent  and  motionless  in  the  lofty  hall ;  the 
lamp  flickered  sadly  under  the  vaulted  roof;  the 
whole  party  of  knights  looked  like  pale,  lifeless  im- 
ages dressed  up  in  gigantic  armor. 

Then  arose  the  chaplain  of  the  castle  of  Dron- 
theim,  the  only  priest  among  the  knightly  throng, 
and  said,  "  Dear  Lord  Biorn,  our  eyes  and  thoughts 


SINTRAM   AND   HIS   COMPANIONS.  247 

have  all  been  directed  to  you  and  your  son  in  a 
wonderful  manner ;  but  so  it  has  been  ordered  by 
the  providence  of  God.  You  perceive  that  we  can- 
not withdraw  them ;  and  you  would  do  well  to  tell 
us  exactly  what  you  know  concerning  £he  fearful 
state  of  the  boy.  Perchance  the  solemn  tale,  which 
I  expect  from  you,  might  do  good  to  this  disturbed 
assembly." 

Biorn  cast  a  look  of  displeasure  on  the  priest,  and 
answered,  "  Sir  chaplain,  you  have  more  share  in  the 
history  than  either  you  or  I  could  desire.  Excuse 
me,  if  I  am  unwilling  to  trouble  these  light-hearted 
warriors  with  so  rueful  a  tale." 

But  the  chaplain  approached  nearer  to  the  knight, 
and  said,  in  a  firm  yet  very  mild  tone,  "Dear  lord, 
hitherto  it  rested  with  you  alone  to  relate  or  not  to 
relate  it ;  but  now  that  you  have  so  strangely  hinted 
at  the  share  which  I  have  had  in  your  son's  calamity, 
I  must  positively  demand  that  you  will  repeat  word 
for  word  how  everything  came  to  pass.  My  honor 
will  have  it  so,  and  that  will  weigh  with  you  as  much 
as  with  me." 

In  stern  compliance  Biorn  bowed  his  haughty 
head,  and  began  the  following  narration :  "  This 
time  seven  years  I  was  keeping  the  Christmas  feast 
with  my  assembled  followers.  We  have  many  ven- 
erable old  customs  which  have  descended  to  us  by 
inheritance  from  our  great  forefathers ;  as,  for  in- 
stance, that  of  placing  a  gilded  boar's  head  on  the 
table,  and  making  thereon  knightly  vows  of  daring 


248  SINTRAM   AND   HIS   COMPANIONS. 

and  wondrous  deeds.  Our  chaplain  here,  who  used 
then  frequently  to  visit  me,  was  never  a  friend  to 
keeping  up  such  traditions  of  the  ancient  heathen 
world.  Such  men  as  he  were  not  much  in  favor  in 
those  olden  times." 

"My  excellent  predecessors,"  interrupted  the 
chaplain,  "^  belonged  more  to  God  than  to  the  world, 
and  with  Him  they  were  in  favor.  Thus  they  con- 
verted your  ancestors ;  and  if  I  can  in  like  manner 
be  of  service  to  you,  even  your  jeering  will  not  vex 
me." 

With  looks  yet  darker,  and  a  somewhat  angry 
shudder,  the  knight  resumed :  "  Yes,  yes,  I  know  all 
your  promises  and  threats  of  an  invisible  Power,  and 
how  they  are  meant  to  persuade  us  to  part  more 
readily  with  whatever  of  this  world's  goods  we  may 
possess.  Once,  ah,  truly,  once  I  too  had  such! 
Strange !  —  Sometimes  it  seems  to  me  as  though 
ages  had  passed  over  since  then,  and  as  if  I  were 
alone  the  survivor,  so  fearfully  is  everything  changed. 
But  now  I  bethink  me,  that  the  greater  part  of  this 
noble  company  knew  me  in  my  happiness,  and  have 
seen  my  wife,  my  lovely  Yerena." 

He  pressed  his  hands  on  his  eyes,  and  it  seemed 
as  though  he  wept.  The  storm  had  ceased ;  the 
soft  light  of  the  moon  shone  through  the  windows, 
and  her  beams  played  on  his  wild  features.  Sud- 
denly he  started  up,  so  that  his  heavy  armor  rattled 
with  a  fearful  sound,  and  he  cried  out  in  a  thunder- 
ing voice,  "  Shall  I  turn  monk,  as  she  has  become  a 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS   COMPANIONS.  249 

nun  ?  No,  crafty  priest ;  your  webs  are  too  thin  to 
catch  flies  of  my  sort." 

"  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  webs,"  said  the  chap- 
lain. "  lu  all  openness  and  sincerity  have  I  put 
heaven  and  hell  before  you  during  the  space  of  six 
years ;  and  you  gave  full  consent  to  the  step  which 
the  holy  Yerena  took.  But  what  all  that  has  to  do 
with  your  son's  sufferings  I  know  not,  and  I  wait  for 
your  narration." 

"  You  may  wait  long  enough,"  said  Biorn,  with  a 
sneer.     "  Sooner  shall  "  — 

"  Swear  not ! "  said  the  chaplain  in  a  loud,  com- 
manding tone,  and  his  eyes  flashed  almost  fearfully. 

"  Hurrah  !  "  cried  Biorn  in  wild  affright ;  "  hurra  ! 
Death  and  his  companion  are  loose  !  "  and  he  dashed 
madly  out  of  the  chamber  and  down  the  steps.  The 
rough  and  fearful  notes  of  his  horn  were  heard,  sum- 
moning his  retainers  ;  and  presently  afterwards  the 
clatter  of  horses'  feet  on  the  frozen  court- yard  gave 
token  of  their  departure. 

The  knights  retired,  silent  and  shuddering ;  while 
the  chaplain  remained  alone  at  the  huge  stone  table 
praying. 


CHAPTER  II. 

After  some  time  the  good  Rolf  returned  with 
slow  and  soft  steps,  and  started  with  surprise  at  find- 
ing the  hall  deserted.  The  chamber  where  he  had 
been  occupied  in  quieting  and  soothing  the  unhappy 
child,  was  in  so  distant  a  part  of  the  castle  that  he 
had  heard  nothing  of  the  knight's  hasty  departure. 
The  chaplain  related  to  him  all  that  had  passed,  and 
then  said,  "  But  my  good  Rolf,  I  much  wish  to  ask 
you  concerning  those  strange  words  with  which  you 
Seemed  to  lull  poor  Sintram  to  rest.  They  sounded 
like  sacred  words,  and  no  doubt  they  are  ;  but  I 
could  not  understand  them.  '  I  believe,  and  yet  I 
cannot  believe.' " 

"  Reverend  sir,"  answered  Rolf,  "  I  remember  that 
from  my  earliest  years  no  history  in  the  gospels  has 
taken  such  hold  of  me  as  that  of  the  child  possessed 
with  a  devil,  which  the  disciples  were  not  able  to 
cast  out ;  but  when  our  Saviour  came  down  from  the 
mountain  where  He  had  been  transfigured.  He 
broke  the  bonds  wherewith  the  evil  spirit  had  held 
the  miserable  child  bound.  I  always  felt  as  if  I 
must  have  known  and  loved  that  boy,  and  been  his 
playfellow  in   his   happy   days ;    and  when  I  grew 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  251 

older,  then  the  distress  of  the  father  on  account  of 
his  lunatic  son  lay  heavy  at  my  heart.  It  must  surely 
have  all  been  a  foreboding  of  our  poor  young  Lord 
Sintram,  whom  I  love  as  if  he  were  my  own  child ; 
and  now  the  words  of  the  weeping  father  in  the 
gospel  often  come  into  my  mind,  — '  Lord,  I  believe ; 
help  Thou  my  unbelief; '  and  something  similar  I 
may  very  likely  have  repeated  to-day  as  a  chant  or 
a  prayer.  Reverend  father,  when  I  consider  how 
one  dreadful  imprecation  of  the  father  has  kept  its 
withering  hold  on  the  son,  all  seems  dark  before  me; 
but,  God  be  praised !  my  faith  and  my  hope  remain 
above." 

"  Good  Rolf,"  said  the  priest,  "  I  cannot  clearly 
understand  what  you  say  about  the  imhappy  Sin- 
tram  ;  for  I  do  not  know  when  and  how  this  affliction 
came  upon  him.  If  no  oath  or  solemn  promise 
bind  you  to  secrecy,  will  you  make  known  to  me  all 
that  is  connected  with  it  ?  " 

"  Most  willingly,"  replied  Rolf  "  I  have  long 
desired  to  have  an  opportunity  of  so  doing ;  but  you 
have  been  almost  always  separated  from  us.  I  dare 
not  now  leave  the  sleeping  boy  any  longer  alone ; 
and  to-morrow,  at  the  earliest  dawn,  I  must  take  him 
to  his  father.  Will  you  come  with  me,  dear  sir,  to 
our  poor  Sintram  ?  " 

The  chaplain  at  once  took  up  the  small  lamp 
which  Rolf  had  brought  with  him,  and  they  set  off 
together  through  the  long  vaulted  passages.  In  the 
small   distant  chamber  they  found  the  poor  boy  fast 


252  SINTRAM   AND   HIS   COMPANION'S. 

asleep.  The  light  of  the  lamp  fell  strangely  on  his 
very  pale  face.  The  chaplain  stood  gazing  at  him 
for  some  time,  and  at  length  said :  "  Certainly 
from  his  birth  his  features  were  always  sharp  and 
strongly  marked,  but  now  they  are  almost  fearfully 
so  for  such  a  child ;  and  yet  no  one  can  help  having 
a  kindly  feeling  towards  him,  whether  he  will  or 
not." 

"  Most  true,  dear  sir,."  answered  Rolf.  And  it  was 
evident  how  his  whole  heart  rejoiced  at  any  word 
which  betokened  affection  for  his  beloved  young 
lord.  Thereupon  he  placed  the  lamp  where  its  light 
could  not  disturb  the  boy,  and  seating  himself  close 
by  the  priest,  he  began  to  speak  in  the  following 
terms  :  "  During  that  Christmas  feast  of  which  my 
lord  was  talking  to  you,  He  and  his  followers  dis- 
coursed much  concerning  the  German  merchants, 
and  the  best  means  of  keeping  down  the  increasing 
pride  and  power  of  the  trading  towns.  At  length 
Biorn  laid  his  impious  hand  on  the  golden  boar's 
head,  and  swore  to  put  to  death  without  mercy  every 
German  trader  whom  fate,  in  what  way  soever, 
might  bring  alive  into  his  power.  The  gentle  Ve- 
rena  turned  pale,  and  would  have  interposed  but 
it  was  too  late  ;  the  bloody  word  was  uttered.  And 
immediately  afterwards,  as  though  the  great  enemy 
of  souls  were  determined  at  once  to  secure  with 
fresh  bonds  the  vassal  thus  devoted  to  him,  a  warder 
came  into  the  hall  to  announce  that  two  citizens  of  a 
trading  town  in  Germany,  an  old  man  and  his  son, 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  253 

had  been  shipwrecked  on  this  coast,  and  were  now 
without  the  gates,  asking  hospitality  of  the  lord  of 
the  castle.  The  knight  could  not  refrain  from  shud- 
dering ;  but  he  thought  himself  bound  by  his  rash 
vow  and  by  that  accursed  heathenish  golden  boar. 
We,  his  retainers,  were  commanded  to  assemble  in 
the  castle  yard,  armed  with  sharp  spears,  which  were 
to  be  hurled  at  the  defenseless  strangers  at  the  first 
signal  made  to  us.  For  the  first,  and  I  trust  the 
^ast  time  in  my  life,  I  said  '  No '  to  the  commands  of 
my  lord  ;  and  that  I  said  in  a  loud  voice,  and  with 
die  heartiest  determination.  The  Almighty,  who 
alone  knows  whom  He  will  accept,  and  whom  He 
will  reject,  armed  me  with  resolution  and  strength. 
And  Biorn  might  perceive  whence  the  refusal  of  his 
faithful  old  servant  arose,  and  that  it  was  worthy  of 
respect.  He  said  to  me,  half  in  anger  and  half  in 
scorn  :  *  Go  up  to  my  wife's  apartments  :  her  attend- 
ants are  running  to  and  fro  ;  perhaps  she  is  ill.  Go 
up,  Rolf  the  Good,  I  say  to  thee,  and  so  women  shall 
be  with  women.'  I  thought  to  myself,  'Jeer  on, 
then;*  and  I  went  silently  the  way  that  he  had 
pointed  out  to  me.  On  the  stairs  there  -met  me  two 
strange  and  right  fearful  beings,  whom  I  had  never 
seen  before  ;  and  I  know  not  how  they  got  into  the 
castle.  One  of  them  was  a  great,  tall  man,  fright- 
fully pallid  and  thin;  the  other  was  a  dwarf-like 
man,  with  a  most  hideous  countenance  and  features. 
Indeed,  when  I  collected  my  thoughts  and  looked 
carefully  at  him,  it  appeared  to  me"  — 


254  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

.  Low  meanings  and  convulsive  movements  of  the 
boy  here  interrupted  the  narrative.  Rolf  and  the 
chaplain  hastened  to  his  bed-side,  and  perceived 
that  his  countenance  wore  an  expression  of  fearful 
agony,  and  that  he  was  struggling  in  vain  to  open  his 
eyes.  The  priest  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  over 
him.  and  immediately  peace  seemed  to  be  restored, 
and  his  sleep  again  became  quiet :  they  both  re- 
turned softly  to  their  seats. 

"  You  see,"  said  Rolf,  "  that  it  will  not  do  to  de- 
scribe more  closely  those  two  awful  beings.  Suffice 
it  to  say,  that  they  went  down  into  the  court-yard, 
and  that  I  proceeded  to  my  lady's  apartments.  I 
found  the  gentle  Verena  almost  fainting  with  terror 
and  overwhelming  anxiety,  and  I  hastened  to  restore 
her  with  some  of  those  remedies  which  I  was  able 
to  apply  by  my  skill,  through  God's  gift  and  the 
healing  virtues  of  herbs  and  minerals.  But  scarcely 
had  she  recovered  her  senses,  when,  with  that  calm, 
holy  power  which,  as  you  know,  is  hers,  she  desired 
me  to  conduct  her  down  to  the  court-yard,  saying 
that  she  must  either  put  a  stop  to  the  fearful  doings 
of  this  night,  or  herself  fall  a  sacrifice.  Our  way 
took  us  by  the  little  bed  of  the  sleeping  Sintram. 
Alas !  hot  tears  fell  from  my  eyes  to  see  how  evenly 
his  gentle  breath  then  came  and  went,  and  how 
sweetly  he  smiled  in  his  peaceful  slumbers." 

The  old  man  put  his  hands  to  his  eyes,  and  wept 
bitterly ;  but  soon  he  resumed  his  sad  story.  "  As 
we  approached  the  lowest  window  of  the  staircase, 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS   COMPANIONS.  255 

we  could  hear  distinctly  the  voice  of  the  elder  mer- 
chant ;  and  on  looking  out,  the  light  of  the  torches 
showed  me  his  noble  features,  as  well  as  the  bright, 
youthful  countenance  of  his  son.  '  I  take  Almighty 
God  to  witness,'  cried  he,  '  that  I  had  no  evil  thought 
against  this  house !  But  surely  I  must  have  fallen 
unawares  amongst  heathens ;  it  cannot  be  that  I  am 
in  a  Christian  knight's  castle ;  and  if  you  are  indeed 
heathens,  then  kill  us  at  once.  And  thou,  my  be- 
loved son,  be  patient  and  of  good  courage ;  in 
heaven  we  shall  learn  wherefore  it  could  not  be 
otherwise.'  I  thought  I  could  see  those  two  fear- 
ful ones  amidst  the  throng  of  retainers.  The  pale 
one  had  a  huge  curved  sword  in  his  hand,  the  lit- 
tle one  held  a  spear  notched  in  a  strange  fashion. 
Verena  tore  open  the  window,  and  cried  in  silvery 
tones  through  the  wild  night,  '  My  dearest  lord  and 
husband,  for  the  sake  of  your  only  child,  have  pity 
on  those  harmless  men !  Save  them  from  death,  and 
resist  the  temptation  of  the  evil  spirit'  The  knight 
answered  in  his  fierce  wrath  —  but  I  cannot  repeat 
his  words.  He  staked  his  child  on  the  desperate 
cast ;  he  called  Death  and  the  Devil  to  see  that  he 
kept  his  word :  but  hush !  the  boy  is  again  moan- 
ing. Let  me  bring  the  dark  tale  quickly  to  a  close. 
Biorn  commanded  his  followers  to  strike,  casting  on 
them  those  fierce  looks  which  have  gained  him  the 
title  of  Biorn  of  the  Fiery  Eyes  ;  while  at  the  same 
time  the  two  frightful  strangers  bestirred  themselves 
very  busily.     Then  Verena  called  out,  with  piercing 


256  SINTRAM   AND   HIS   COMPANIONS. 

anguish,  '  Help,  O  Grod,  my  Saviour ! '  Those  two 
dreadful  figures  disappeared ;  and  the  knight  and 
his  retainers,  as  if  seized  with  blindness,  rushed 
wildly  one  against  the  other,  but  without  doing  in- 
jury to  themselves,  or  yet  being  able  to  strike  the 
merchants,  who  ran  so  close  a  risk.  They  bowed 
reverently  towards  Verena,  and  with  calm  thanks- 
givings departed  through  the  castle  gates,  which  at 
that  moment  had  been  burst  open  by  a  violent  gust 
of  wind,  and  now  gave  a  free  passage  to  any  who 
would  go  forth.  The  lady  and  I  were  yet  standing 
bewildered  on  the  stairs,  when  I  fancied  I  saw  the 
two  fearful  forms  glide  close  by  me,  but  mist-like 
and  unreal.  Verena  called  to  me :  '  Rolf,  did  you 
see  a  tall  pale  man,  and  a  little  hideous  one  with 
him,  pass  just  now  up  the  staircase  ? '  I  flew  after 
them;  and  found,  alas,  the  poor  boy  in  the  same 
state  in  which  you  saw  him  a  few  hours  ago.  Ever 
since,  the  attack  has  come  on  him  regularly  at 
this  time,  and  he  is  in  all  respects  fearfully  changed. 
The  lady  of  the  castle  did  not  fail  to  discern  the 
avenging  hand  of  Heaven  in  this  calamity ;  and  as 
the  knight,  her  husband,  instead  of  repenting,  ever 
became  more  truly  Biorn  of  the  Fiery  Eyes,  she 
resolved,  in  the  walls  of  a  cloister,  by  unremitting 
prayer,  to  obtain  mercy  in  time  and  eternity  for  her- 
self and  her  unhappy  child." 

Rolf  was  silent ;  and  the  chaplain,  after  some 
thought,  said :  "  I  now  understand  why,  six  y6ars 
ago,  Biorn  confessed  his  guilt  to  me  in  general  words, 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  257 

and  consented  that  his  wife  should  take  the  veil. 
Some  faint  compunction  must  then  have  stirred 
within  him,  and  perhaps* may  stir  him  yet.  At  any 
rate  it  was  impossible  that  so  tender  a  flower  as  Ve- 
rena  could  remain  longer  in  so  rough  keeping.  But 
who  is  there  now  to  watch  over  and  protect  our  poor 
Sintram?" 

"  The  prayer  of  his  mother,"  answered  Rolf. 
"  Reverend  sir,  when  the  first  dawn  of  day  appears, 
as  it  does  now,  and  when  the  morning  breeze  whis- 
pers through  the  glancing  window,  they  ever  bring  to 
my  mind  the  soft  beaming  eyes  of  my  lady,  and  I 
again  seem  to  hear  the  sweet  tones  of  her  voice. 
The  holy  Verena  is,  next  to  God,  our  chief  aid." 

"  And  let  us  add  our  devout  supplications  to  the 
Lord,"  said  the  chaplain  ;  and  he  and  Rolf  knelt  in 
silent  and  earnest  prayer  by  the  bed  of  the  pale  suf- 
ferer, who  began  to  smile  in  his  dreams. 

17 


CHAPTER  III. 

The  rays  of  the  sun  shining  brightly  into  the 
room  awoke  Sintram,  and  raising  himself  up,  he 
looked  angrily  at  the  chaplain,  and  said,  "  So  there 
is  a  priest  in  the  castle  !  And  yet  that  accursed 
dream  continues  to  torment  me  even  in  his  very 
presence.     Pretty  priest  he  must  be  !  " 

*'  My  child,"  answered  the  chaplain  in  the  mildest 
tones,  "  I  have  prayed  for  thee  most  fervently,  and  I 
shall  never  cease  doing  so  —  but  God  alone  is  Al- 
mighty." 

"  You  speak  very  boldly  to  the  son  of  the  knight 
Biorn,"  cried  Sintram.  "  '  My  child  ! '  If  those  hor- 
rible dreams  had  not  been  again  haunting  me,  you 
would  make  me  laugh  heartily." 

"  Young  Lord  Sintram,"  said  the  chaplain,  "  I  am 
by  no  means  surprised  that  you  do  not  know  me 
again  ;  for,  in  truth,  neither  do  I  know  you  again." 
And  his  eyes  filled  with  tears  as  he  spoke. 

The  good  Rolf  looked  sorrowfully  in  the  boy's 
face,  saying,  "  Ah,  my  dear  young  master,  you  are 
so  much  better  than  you  would  make  people  be- 
lieve. Why  do  you  that  ?  Your  memory  is  so  good, 
that  you  must  surely  recollect  your  kind  old  friend 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  259 

the  chaplain,  who  used  formerly  to  be  constantly  at 
the  castle,  and  to  bring  you  so  many  gifts  —  bright 
pictures  of  saints,  and  beautiful  songs  ?  " 

"  I  know  all  that  very  well,"  replied  Sintram, 
thoughtfully.  "  My  sainted  mother  was  alive  in  those 
days." 

"  Our  gracious  lady  is  still  living,  God  be  praised  ! " 
said  the  good  Rolf. 

"  But  she  does  not  live  for  us,  poor  sick  creatures 
that  we  are ! "  cried  Sintram.  "  And  why  will  you 
not  call  her  sainted?  Surely  she  knows  nothing 
about  my  dreams  ?  " 

"  Yes,  she  does  know  of  them,"  said  the  chaplain  ; 
"  and  she  prays  to  God  for  you.  But  take  heed,  and 
restrain  that  wild,  haughty  temper  of  yours.  It 
might,  indeed,  come  to  pass  that  she  would  know 
nothing  about  your  dreams,  and  that  would  be  if  your 
soul  were  separated  from  your  body ;  and  then  the 
holy  angels  also  would  cease  to  know  anything  of 
you." 

Sintram  fell  back  on  his  bed  as  if  thunderstruck  ; 
and  Rolf  said,  with  a  gentle  sigh,  "  You  should  not 
speak  so  severely  to  my  poor  sick  child,  reverend 
sir." 

The  boy  sat  up,  and  with  tearful  eyes  he  turned 
caressingly  towards  the  chaplain:  "Let  him  do  as 
he  pleases,  you  good,  tender-hearted  Rolf;  he  knows 
very  w^ell  what  he  is  about.  Would  you  reprove  him 
if  I  were  slipping  down  a  snow-cleft,  and  he  caught 
me  up  roughly  by  the  hair  of  my  head  ?  " 


260  SINTKAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

The  priest  looked  tenderly  at  him,  and  would  have 
spoken  his  holy  thoughts,  when  Sintram  suddenly 
sprang  off  the  bed  and  asked  after  his  father.  As 
soon  as  he  heard  of  the  knight's  departure,  he  would 
not  remain  another  hour  in  the  castle ;  and  put  aside 
the  fears  of  the  chaplain  and  the  old  esquire,  lest 
a  rapid  journey  should  injure  his  hardly  restored 
health,  by  saying  to  them,  "  Believe  me,  reverend 
sir,  and  dear  old  Rolf,  if  I  were  not  subject  to  these 
hideous  dreams,  there  would  not  be  a  bolder  youth 
in  the  whole  world ;  and  even  as  it  is,  I  am  not  so 
far  behind  the  very  best.  Besides,  till  another  year 
has  passed,  my  dreams  are  at  an  end." 

On  his  somewhat  imperious  sign,  Rolf  brought  out 
the  horses.  The  boy  threw  himself  boldly  into  the 
saddle,  and  taking  a  courteous  leave  of  the  chaplain, 
he  dashed  along  the  frozen  valley  that  lay  between 
the  snow-clad  mountains.  He  had  not  ridden  far, 
in  company  with  his  old  attendant,  when  he  heard  a 
strange,  indistinct  sound  proceeding  from  a  neighbor- 
ing cleft  in  the  rock ;  it  was  partly  like  the  clapper 
of  a  small  mill,  but  mingled  with  that  were  hollow 
groans  and  other  tones  of  distress.  Thither  they 
turned  their  horses,  and  a  wonderful  sight  showed 
itself  to  them. 

A  tall  man,  deadly  pale,  in  a  pilgrim's  garb,  was 
striving,  with  violent  though  unsuccessful  efforts,  to 
work  his  way  out  of  the  snow  and  to  climb  up  the 
mountain  ;  and  thereby  a  quantity  of  bones,  which 
were  hanging  loosely  all  about  his  garments,  rattled 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  2dl 

one  against  the  other,  and  caused  the  mysterious 
sound  already  mentioned.  Rolf,  much  terrified, 
crossed  himself,  while  the  bold  Sintram  called  out  to 
the  stranger,  "  What  art  thou  doing  there  ?  Give 
an  account  of  thy  solitary  labors." 

"  I  live  in  death,"  replied  the  other  one  with  a  fear- 
ful grin. 

"  Whose  are  those  bones  on  thy  clothes  ?  " 

"  They  are  relics,  young  sir." 

"  Art  thou  a  pilgrim  ?  " 

"  Restless,  quietless,  I  wander  up  and  down." 

"  Thou  must  not  perish  here  in  the  snow  before 
my  eyes." 

"  That  I  will  not." 

"  Thou  must  come  up  and  sit  on  my  horse." 

"  That  I  will."  And  all  at  once  he  started  up  out 
of  the  snow  with  surprising  strength  and  agility,  and 
sat  on  the  horse  behind  Sintram,  clasping  him  tight 
in  his  long  arms.  The  horse,  startled  by  the  rattling 
of  the  bones,  and  as  if  seized  with  madness,  rushed 
away  through  the  most  trackless  passes.  The  boy 
soon  found  himself  alone  with  his  strange  compan- 
ion ;  for  Rolf,  breathless  with  fear,  spurred  on  his 
horse  in  vain,  and  remained  far  behind  them.  From 
a  snowy  precipice  the  horse  slid,  without  falling,  into 
a  narrow  gorge,  somewhat  indeed  exhausted,  yet 
continuing  to  snort  and  foam  as  before,  and  still  un- 
mastered  by  the  boy.  Yet  his  headlong  course 
Deing  now  changed  into  a  rough,  irregular  trot,  Sin- 
tram was  able  to  breathe  more  freely,  and  to  begin 


262  SINTRAM   AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

the  following  discourse  with  his  unknown  compan- 
ion :  — 

"  Draw  thy  garment  closer  around  thee,  thou  pale 
man,  so  the  bones  will  not  rattle,  and  I  shall  be  able 
to  curb  my  horse." 

"  It  would  be  of  no  avail,  boy ;  it  would  be  of  no 
avail.     The  bones  must  rattle." 

"  Do  not  clasp  me  so  tight  with  thy  long  arms ; 
they  are  so  cold." 

"  It  cannot  be  helped,  boy ;  it  cannot  be  helped. 
Be  content.  For  my  long,  cold  arms  are  not  press- 
ing yet  on  thy  heart." 

"  Do  not  breathe  on  me  so  with  thy  icy  breath. 
All  my  strength  is  departing." 

"  I  must  breathe,  boy  ;  I  must  breathe.  But  do 
not  complain.     I  am  not  blowing  thee  away." 

The  strange  dialogue  here  came  to  an  end ;  for  to 
Sintram's  surprise  he  found  himself  on  an  open 
plain,  over  which  the  sun  was  shining  brightly,  and 
at  no  great  distance  before  him  he  saw  his  father's 
castle.  While  he  was  thinking  whether  he  might 
invite  the  unearthly  pilgrim  to  rest  there,  this  one 
put  an  end  to  his  doubts  by  throwing  himself  sud- 
denly off  the  horse,  whose  wild  course  was  checked 
by  the  shock.  Raising  his  forefinger,  he  said  to  the 
boy,  "  I  know  old  Biorn  of  the  Fiery  Eyes  well ; 
perhaps  but  too  well.  Commend  me  to  him.  It 
A^ill  not  need  to  tell  him  my  name  ;  he  will  recognize ' 
me  at  the  description.'  So  saying,  the  ghastly  stran- 
ger turned  aside  into  a  thick  fir-wood,  and  disap- 
peared rattlino-  aiiiongst  the  tangled  branches. 


SINTRAM    AND   HIS   COMPANIONS.  263 

Slowly  and  thoughtfully  Sintram  rode  on  towards 
his  father's  castle,  his  horse  now  again  quiet  and 
altogether  exhausted.  He  scarcely  knew  how  much 
he  ought  to  relate  of  his  wonderful  journey,  and  he 
also  felt  oppressed  with  anxiety  for  the  good  Rolf, 
who  had  remained  so  far  behind.  He  found  himself 
at  the  castle  gate  sooner  than  he  had  expected ;  the 
drawbridge  was  lowered,  the  doors  were  thrown 
open  ;  an  attendant  led  the  youth  into  the  great  hall, 
where  Biorn  was  sitting  all  alone  at  a  huge  table, 
with  many  flagons  and  glasses  before  him,  and  suits 
of  armor  ranged  on  either  side  of  him.  It  was  his 
daily  custom,  by  way  of  company,  to  have  the  armor 
of  his  ancestors,  with  closed  visors,  placed  all  round 
the  table  at  which  he  sat.  The  father  and  son  began 
conversing  as  follows :  — 

"Where  is  Rolf?" 

"  I  do  not  know,  father ;  he  left  me  in  the  moun- 
tains." 

"  I  will  have  Rolf  shot,  if  he  cannot  take  better 
care  than  that  of  my  only  child." 

"  Then  father,  you  will  have  your  only  child  shot 
at  the  same  time,  for  without  Rolf  I  cannot  live; 
and  if  even  one  single  dart  is  aimed  at  him,  I  will 
be  there  to  receive  it,  and  to  shield  his  true  and 
faithful  heart." 

"So!— Then  Rolf  shall  not  be  shot;  but  he 
'ihall  be  driven  from  the  castle." 

"  In  that  case,  father,  you  will  see  me  go  away 
also ;  and  I  will  give  myself  up  to  serve  him  in  for- 


264  SINTRAM   AND   HIS   COMPANIONS. 

"  So  !  —  Well,  then,  Rolf  must  remain  here.** 

^  That  is  just  what  I  think,  father." 

"  "Were  you  riding  quite  alone  ?  " 

"  No,  father ;  but  with  a  strange  pilgrim.  He  said 
that  he  knew  you  very  well  —  perhaps  too  well.'* 
And  thereupon  Sintram  began  to  relate  and  to  de- 
scribe all  that  had  passed  with  the  pale  man. 

"  I  know  him  also  very  well,"  said  Biorn.  "  He  is 
half  crazed  and  half  wise,  as  we  sometimes  are  as- 
tonished at  seeing  that  people  can  be.  But  do  thou, 
my  boy,  go  to  rest  after  thy  wild  journey.  I  give 
you  my  word  that  Rolf  shall  be  kindly  received  if  he 
arrive  here ;  and  that  if  he  do  not  come  soon,  he 
shall  be  sought  for  in  the  mountains." 

"  I  trust  to  your  word,  father,"  said  Sintram,  half 
humble,  half  proud ;  and  he  did  after  the  command 
of  the  grim  lord  of  the  castle. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Towards  evening  Sintram  awoke.  He  saw  the 
good  Rolf  sitting  at  his  bedside,  and  looked  up  in 
the  old  man's  kind  face  with  a  smile  of  unusually 
innocent  brightness.  But  soon  again  his  dark  brows 
were  knit,  and  he  asked,  "  How  did  my  father  re- 
ceive you,  Rolf  ?     Did  he  say  a  harsh  word  to  you  ! " 

"  No,  my  dear  young  lord,  he  did  not ;  indeed  he 
did  not  speak  to  me  at  all.  At  first  he  looked  very 
wrathful ;  but  he  checked  himself,  and  ordered  a 
servant  to  bring  me  food  and  wine  to  refresh  me, 
and  afterwards  to  take  me  to  your  room." 

"  He  might  have  kept  his  word  better.  But  he  is 
my  father,  and  I  must  not  judge  him  too  hardly.  I 
will  now  go  down  to  the  evening  meal."  So  saying, 
he  sprang  up  and  threw  on  his  furred  mantle. 

But  Rolf  stopped  him,  and  said,  entreatingly : 
"  My  dear  young  master,  you  would  do  better  to  take 
your  meal  to-day  alone  here  in  your  own  apartment ; 
for  there  is  a  guest  with  your  father,  in  whose  com- 
pany I  should  be  very  sorry  to  see  you.  If  you  will 
remain  here,  I  will  entertain  you  with  pleasant  tales 
and  songs." 

"  There  is  nothing  in   the  world  which  I  should 


266        sinTram  and  his  companions. 

like  better,  dear  Rolf,'*  answered  Sintram  ;  "  but  it 
does  not  befit  me  to  shun  any  man.  Tell  me,  whom 
should  I  find  with  my  father  ?  " 

"  Alas ! "  said  the  old  man,  "  you  have  already 
found  him  in  the  mountain.  Formerly,  when  I  used 
to  ride  about  the  country  with  Biorn,  we  often  met 
with  him,  but  I  was  forbidden  to  tell  you  anything 
about  him ;  and  this  is  the  first  time  that  he  has 
ever  come  to  the  castle." 

"  The  crazy  pilgrim  ! "  rejjlied  Sintram ;  and  he 
stood  awhile  in  deep  thought,  as  if  considering  the 
matter.  At  last,  rousing  himself,  he  said:  "Dear 
old  friend,  I  would  most  willingly  stay  here  this 
evening  all  alone  with  you  and  your  stories  and 
songs,  and  all  the  pilgrims  in  the  world  should  not 
entice  me  from  this  quiet  room.  But  one  thing  must 
be  considered.  I  feel  a  kind  of  dread  of  that  pale, 
tall  man ;  and  by  such  fears  no  knight's  son  can 
ever  suffer  himself  to  be  overcome.  So  be  not  an- 
gry, dear  Rolf,  if  I  determine  to  go  and  look  that 
strange  palmer  in  the  face."  And  he  shut  the  door 
of  the  chamber  behind  him,  and  with  firm  and 
echoing  steps  proceeded  to  the  hall. 

The  pilgrim  and  the  knight  were  sitting  opposite 
to  each  other  at  the  great  table,  on  which  many 
lights  were  burning ;  and  it  was  fearful,  amongst  all 
the  lifeless  armor,  to  see  those  two  tall,  grim  men 
move,  and  eat,  and  drink. 

As  the  pilgrim  looked  up  on  the  boy's  entrance, 
Biorn  said  :  "  You  know  him  already  ;  he  is  my  only 
child,  and  your  fellow-traveller  this  morning." 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  267 

The  palmer  fixed  an  earnest  look  on  Sintram,  and 
answered,  shaking  his  head,  "  I  know  not  what  you 
mean." 

Then  the  boy  burst  forth,  impatiently,  "  It  must  be 
confessed  that  you  deal  very  unfairly  by  us !  You 
say  that  you  know  my  father  but  too  much,  and  now 
it  seems  that  you  know  me  altogether  too  little. 
Look  me  in  the  face  :  who  allowed  you  to  ride  on  his 
horse,  and  in  return  had  his  good  steed  driven 
almost  wild  ?     Speak  if  you  can  ! '' 

Biorn  smiled,  shaking  his  head,  but  well  pleased,  as 
was  his  wont,  with  his  son's  wild  behavior ;  while 
the  pilgrim  shuddered  as  if  terrified  and  overcome 
by  some  fearful,  irresistible  power.  At  length,  with 
a  trembling  voice,  he  said  these  words :  "  Yes,  yes, 
my  dear  young  lord,  you  are  surely  quite  right ;  you 
are  perfectly  right  in  everything  which  you  may 
please  to  assert." 

Then  the  lord  of  the  castle  laughed  aloud,  and 
said :  "  Why,  thou  strange  pilgrim,  what  is  become 
of  all  thy  wonderfully  fine  speeches  and  warnings 
now  ?  Has  the  boy  all  at  once  struck  thee  dumb 
and  powerless?  Beware,  thou  prophet-messenger, 
beware !  " 

But  the  palmer  cast  a  fearful  look  on  Biorn  which 
seemed  to  quench  the  light  of  his  fiery  eyes,  and 
said  solemnly,  in  a  thundering  voice,  "  Between  me 
\ind  thee,  old  man,  the  case  stands  quite  otherwise. 
We  have  nothing  to  reproach  each  other  with.  And 
now  suffer  me   to  sing  a  song  to  you  on  the  lute." 


268  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

He  stretched  out  his  hand,  and  took  down  j&"om  the 
wall  a  forgotten  and  half-strung  lute,  which  was 
hanging  there ;  and,  with  surprising  skill  and  rapid- 
ity, having  put  it  in  a  state  fit  for  use,  he  struck  some 
chords,  and  raised  this  song  to  the  low  melancholy 
tones  of  the  instrument :  — 

"  The  flow'ret  was  mine  own,  mine  own, 
But  I  have  lost  its  fragrance  rare, 
And  knightly  name  and  freedom  fair, 
Through  sin,  through  sin  alone. 

"  The  flow'ret  was  thine  own,  thine  own, 
Why  cast  away  what  thou  didst  win  ? 
Thou  knight  no  more,  but  slave  of  sin, 
Thou'rt  fearfully  alone  1  " 

"  Have  a  care  !  "  shouted  he  at  the  close  in  a  peal- 
ing voice,  as  he  pulled  the  strings  so  mightily  that 
they  all  broke  with  a  clanging  wail,  and  a  cloud  of 
dust  rose  from  the  old  lute,  which  spread  round  him 
like  a  mist. 

Sintram  had  been  watching  him  narrowly  whilst 
he  was  singing,  and  more  and  more  did  he  feel  con- 
vinced that  it  was  impossible  that  this  man  and  his 
fellow-traveller  of  the  morning  could  be  one  and  the 
same.  Nay,  the  doubt  rose  to  certainty,  when  the 
stranger  again  looked  round  at  him  with  the  same 
timid,  anxious  air,  and  with  many  excuses  and  low 
reverences  hung  the  lute  in  its  old  place,  and  then 
ran  out  of  the  hall  as  if  bewildered  with  terror,  in 
strange  contrast  with  the  proud  and  stately  bearing 
which  he  had  shown  to  Biorn. 

The  eyes  of   the  boy  were  now   directed  to  his 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  269 

father,  and  he  saw  that  he  had  sunk  back  senseless 
in  his  seat,  as  if  struck  by  a  blow.  Sintram's  cries 
called  Rolf  and  other  attendants  into  the  hall ;  and 
only  by  great  labor  did  their  united  efforts  awake 
the  lord  of  the  castle.  His  looks  were  still  wild  and 
disordered ;  but  he  allowed  himself  to  be  taken  tc» 
rest,  quiet  and  yielding. 


CHAPTER  V. 

An  illness  followed  this  sudden  attack ;  and  dur- 
ing the  course  of  it  the  stout  old  knight,  in  the  midst 
of  his  delirious  ravings,  did  not  cease  to  affirm  con- 
fidently that  he  must  and  should  recover.  He 
laughed  proudly  when  his  fever-fits  came  on,  and 
rebuked  them  for  daring  to  attack  him  so  needlessly. 
Then  he  murmured  to  himself,  "  That  was  not  the 
right  one  yet ;  there  must  still  be  another  one  out  in 
the  cold  mountains." 

Always  at  such  words  Sintram  involuntarily  shud- 
dered ;  they  seemed  to  strengthen  his  notion  that  he 
who  had  ridden  with  him,  and  he  who  had  sat  at 
table  in  the  castle,  were  two  quite  distinct  persons  ; 
and  he  knew  not  why,  but  this  thought  was  inex- 
pressibly awful  to  him. 

Biorn  recovered,  and  appeared  to  have  entirely 
forgotten  his  adventure  with  the  palmer.  He  hunted 
in  the  mountains ;  he  carried  on  his  usual  wild  war- 
fare with  his  neighbors  ;  and  Sintram,  as  he  grew 
up,  became  his  almost  constant  companion  ;  whereby 
each  year  a  fearful  strength  of  body  and  spirit  was 
unfolded  in  the  youth.  Every  one  trembled  at  the 
sight  of  his  sharp,  pallid  features  ;  his  dark  rolling 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  271 

eyes  ;  his  tall,  muscular,  and  somewhat  lean  form ; 
and  yet  no  one  hated  him  —  not  even  those  whom 
he  distressed  or  injured  in  his  wildest  humors. 
TJiis  might  arise  in  part  out  of  regard  to  old  Rolf, 
who  seldom  left  him  for  long,  and  who  always  held 
a  softening  influence  over  him  ;  but  also  many  of 
those  who  had  known  the  lady  Verena  while  she 
still  lived  in  the  world,  affirmed  that  a  faint  reflection 
of  her  heavenly  expression  floated  over  the  very  un- 
like features  of  her  son,  and  that  by  this  their  hearts 
were  won. 

Once,  just  at  the  beginning  of  spring,  Biorn  and 
his  son  were  hunting  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
sea-coast,  over  a  tract  of  country  which  did  not  be- 
long to  them  ;  drawn  thither  less  by  the  love  of 
sport  than  by  the  wish  of  bidding  defiance  to  a  chief- 
tain whom  they  detested,  and  thus  exciting  a  feud. 
At  that  season  of  the  year,  when  his  winter  dreams 
had  just  passed  off,  Sintram  was  always  unusually 
fierce  and  disposed  for  warlike  adventures.  And 
this  day  he  was  enraged  at  the  chieftain  for  not 
coming  in  arms  from  his  castle  to  hinder  their  hunt- 
ing ;  and  he  cursed,  in  the  wildest  words,  his  tame 
patience  and  love  of  peace.  Just  then  one  of  his 
wild  young  companions  rushed  towards  him,  shout- 
ing joyfully  :  "  Be  content,  my  dear  young  lord!  I 
will  wager  that  all  is  coming  abofit  as  we  and  you 
wish  ;  for  as  I  was  pursuing  a  wounded  deer  down 
to  the  sea-shore,  I  saw  a  sail  and  a  vessel  filled  with 
armed  men  making  for  the  shore.  Doubtless  your 
enemy  purposes  to  fall  upon  you  from  the  coast." 


272  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

Joyfully  and  secretly  Sintram  called  all  his  follow- 
ers together,  being  resolved  this  time  to  take  the 
combat  on  himself  alone,  and  then  to  rejoin  his 
father,  and  astonish  him  with  the  sight  of  captured 
foes  and  other  tokens  of  victory. 

The  hunters,  thoroughly  acquainted  with  every 
cliff  and  rock  on  the  coast,  hid  themselves  round 
the  landing-place  ;  and  soon  the  strange  vessel  hove 
nearer  with  swelling  sails,  till  at  length  it  came  to 
anchor,  and  its  crew  began  to  disembark  in  unsus- 
picious security.  At  the  head  of  them  appeared  a 
knight  of  high  degree,  in  blue  steel  armor  richly 
inlaid  with  gold.  His  head  was  bare,  for  he  carried 
his  costly  golden  helmet  hanging  on  his  left  arm. 
He  looked  royally  around  him  ;  and  his  countenance, 
which  dark  brown  locks  shaded,  was  pleasant  to  be- 
hold ;  and  a  well-trimmed  moustache  fringed  his 
mouth,  from  which,  as  he  smiled,  gleamed  forth  two 
rows  of  pearl-white  teeth. 

A  feeling  came  across  Sintram  that  he  must 
already  have  seen  this  knight  somewhere ;  and  he 
stood  motionless  for  a  few  moments.  But  suddenly 
he  raised  his  hand,  to  make  the  agreed  signal  of  at- 
tack. In  vain  did  the  good  Rolf,  who  had  just  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  up  to  him,  whisper  in  his  ear  that 
these  could  not  be  the  foes  whom  he  had  taken  them 
for,  but  that  they  were  unknown,  and  certainly  high 
and  noble  strangers. 

"  Let  them  be  whom  they  may,"  replied  the  wild 
youth  ;  "  they  have  enticed  me  here  to  wait,  and  they 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  273 

shall  pay  the  penalty  of  thus  fooling  me.  Say  not 
another  word,  if  you  value  your  life."  And  imme- 
diately he  gave  the  signal,  a  thick  shower  of  javelins 
followed  from  all  sides,  and  the  Norwegian  warriors 
rushed  forth  with  flashing  swords.  They  found  their 
foes  as  brave,  or  somewhat  braver,  than  they  could 
have  desired.  More  fell  on  the  side  of  those  who 
made  than  of  those  who  received  the  assault;  and 
the  strangers  appeared  to  understand  surprisingly 
the  Norwegian  manner  of  fighting.  The  knight  in 
steel  armor  had  not  in  his  haste  put  on  his  helmet ; 
but  it  seemed  as  if  he  in  no  wise  needed  such  pro- 
tection, for  his  good  sword  afforded  him  sufficient 
defense  even  against  the  spears  and  darts  which 
were  incessantly  hurled  at  him,  as  with  rapid  skill 
he  received  them  on  the  shining  blade,  and  dashed 
them  far  away,  shivered  into  fragments. 

Sintram  could  not  at  the  first  onset  penetrate  to 
where  this  shining  hero  was  standing,  as  all  his  fol- 
lowers, eager  after  such  a  noble  prey,  thronged 
closely  round  him ;  but  now  the  way  was  cleared 
enough  for  him  to  spring  towards  the  brave  stranger, 
shouting  a  war-cry,  and  brandishing  his  sword  above 
his  head. 

"  Gabrielle !  "  cried  the  knight,  as  he  dexterously 
parried  the  heavy  blow  which  was  descending,  and 
with  one  powerful  sword-thrust  he  laid  the  youth 
prostrate  on  the  ground  ;  then  placing  his  knee  on 
Sintram's  breast,  he  drew  forth  a  flashing  dagger, 
and  held  it  before  his  eyes  as  he  lay  astonished.  All 
18 


274  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

at  once  the  men-at-arms  stood  round  like  walls.  Sin- 
tram  felt  that  no  hope  remained  for  him.  He  de- 
termined to  die  as  it  became  a  bold  warrior ;  and 
without  giving  one  sign  of  emotion,  he  looked  on  the 
fatal  weapon  with  a  steady  gaze. 

As  he  lay  with  his  eyes  cast  upwards,  he  fancied 
that  there  appeared  suddenly  from  heaven  a  won- 
drously  beautiful  female  form  in  a  bright  attire  of 
blue  and  gold.  "  Our  ancestors  told  truly  of  the 
Valkyrias,"  murmured  he.  "  Strike,  then,  thou  un- 
known conqueror." 

But  with  this  the  knight  did  not  comply,  neither 
was  it  a  Yalkyria  who  had  so  suddenly  appeared, 
but  the  beautiful  wife  of  the  stranger,  who,  having 
advanced  to  the  high  edge  of  the  vessel,  had  thus 
met  the  upraised  look  of  Sintram. 

"  Folko,"  cried  she,  in  the  softest  tone,  "  thou 
knight  without  reproach !  I  know  that  thou  sparest 
the  vanquished." 

The  knight  sprang  up,  and  with  courtly  grace 
stretched  out  his  hand  to  the  conquered  youth,  say- 
ing, "  Thank  the  noble  Lady  of  Montfaucon  for  your 
life  and  liberty.  But  if  you  are  so  totally  devoid  of 
all  goodness  as  to  wish  to  resume  the  combat,  here 
am  I ;  let  it  be  yours  to  begin." 

Sintram  sank,  deeply  ashamed,  on  his  knees,  and 
wept ;  for  he  had  often  heard  speak  of  the  high  re- 
nown of  the  French  knight  Folko  of  Montfaucon, 
who  was  rehited  to  his  father's  house,  and  of  the 
grace  and  beauty  of  his  gentle  lady  Gabrielle. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

The  Lord  of  Montfaiicon  looked  with  astonishment 
at  his  strange  foe  ;  and  as  he  gazed  on  him  more 
and  more,  recollections  arose  in  his  mind  of  that 
northern  race  from  whom  he  was  descended,  and  with 
whom  he  had  always  maintained  friendly  relations. 
A  golden  bear's  claw,  with  which  Sintram's  cloak 
was  fastened,  at  length  made  all  clear  to  him. 

"  Have  you  not,"  said  he,  "  a  valiant  and  far-famed 
kinsman,  called  the  Sea-king  Arinbiorn,  who  carries 
on  his  helmet  golden  vulture-wings  ?  And  is  not 
your  father  the  knight  Biorn  ?  For  surely  the  bear's 
claw  on  your  mantle  must  be  the  cognizance  of  your 
house." 

Sintram  assented  to  all  this,  in  deep  and  humble 
shame. 

The  knight  of  Montfaucon  raised  him  from  the 
ground,  and  said  gravely,  yet  gently,  "  We  are,  then, 
of  kin  the  one  to  the  other ;  but  I  could  never  have 
oelieved  that  any  one  of  our  noble  house  would  at- 
tack a  peaceful  man  without  provocation,  and  that, 
too,  without  giving  warning." 

"  Slay  me  at  once,"  answered  Sintram,  "  if  indeed 
[  am  worthy  to  die  by  so  noble  hands.  I  can  no 
longer  endure  the  light  of  day." 


276  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

"  Because  you  have  been  overcome  ? "  asked 
Montfaucon. 

Sintram  shook  his  head. 

"  Or  is  it,  rather,  because  you  have  committed  an 
ttnknightly  action  ?  " 

The  glow  of  shame  that  overspread  the  youth's 
countenance  said  yes  to  this. 

"  But  you  should  not  on  that  account  wish  to  die," 
continued  Montfaucon.  "  You  should  rather  wish  to 
live,  that  you  may  prove  your  repentance,  and  make 
your  name  illustrious  by  many  noble  deeds  ;  for  you 
are  endowed  with  a  bold  spirit  and  with  a  strength 
of  limb,  and  also  with  the  eagle-glance  of  a  chieftain. 
I  should  have  made  you  a  knight  this  very  hour,  if 
you  had  borne  yourself  as  bravely  in  a  good  cause, 
as  you  have  just  now  in  a  bad.  See  to  it,  that  I 
may  do  it  soon.  You  may  yet  become  a  vessel  of 
high  honor." 

A  joyous  sound  of  shawms  and  silver  rebecks  in- 
terupted  his  discourse.  The  lady  Gabrielle,  bright 
as  the  mornirag,  had  now  come  down  from  the  ship, 
surrounded  by  her  maidens  ;  and  instructed  in  a  few 
words  by  Fo.ko,  who  was  his  late  foe,  she  took  the 
combat  as  some  mere  trial  of  arms,  saying,  "  You 
must  not  be  cast  down,  noble  youth,  because  my 
wedded  lord  has  won  the  prize ;  for  be  it  known  to 
you,  that  in  the  whole  world  there  is  but  one  knight 
who  can  boast  of  not  having  been  overcome  by  the 
Baron  of  Montfaucon.  And  who  can  say,"  continued 
Bhe,  sportively,  ''  whether  even  ihat  would  have  hap- 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  277 

pened,  had  he  not  set  himself  to  win  back  the  magic 
ring  from  me,  his  lady-love,  destined  to  him,  as  well 
by  the  choice  C/f  my  own  heart  as  by  the  will  of 
Heaven ! " 

Folko,  smiling,  bent  his  head  over  the  snow-white 
hand  of  his  lady ;  and  then  bade  the  youth  conduct 
them  to  his  father's  castle. 

Rolf  took  upon  himself  to  see  to  the  disembarking 
of  the  horses  and  valuables  of  the  strangers,  filled 
with  joy  at  the  thought  that  an  angel  in  woman's 
form  had  appeared  to  soften  his  beloved  young 
master,  and  perhaps  even  to  free  him  from  that  early 
curse. 

Sintram  sent  messengers  in  all  directions  to  seek 
for  his  father,  and  to  announce  to  him  the  arrival  of 
his  noble  guests.  They  therefore  found  the  old 
knight  in  his  castle,  with  everything  prepared  for 
their  reception.  Gabrielle  could  not  enter  the  vast, 
dark-looking  building  without  a  slight  shudder,  which 
was  increased  when  she  saw  the  rolling  fiery  eyes  of 
its  lord  ;  even  the  pale,  dark-haired  Sintram  seemed 
to  her  very  fearful ;  and  she  sighed  to  herself,  "  Oh, 
what  an  awful  abode  have  you  brought  me  to  visit, 
my  knight !  Would  that  we  were  once  again  in  my 
sunny  Gascony,  or  in  your  knightly  Normandy  ! " 

But  the  grave  yet  courteous  reception,  the  deep 
respect  paid  to  her  grace  and  beauty,  and  to  the  high 
fame  of  Folko,  helped  to  reassure  her ;  and  soon 
aer  bird-like  pleasure  in  novelties  was  awakened 
through  the  strange  significant  appearances  of  this 


278  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

new  world.  And  besides,  it  could  only  be  for  a  pass- 
ing moment  that  any  womanly  fears  found  a  place 
in  her  breast  when  her  lord  was  near  at  hand,  for 
well  did  she  know  what  effectual  protection  that 
brave  baron  was  ever  ready  to  afford  to  all  those 
v^ho  were  dear  to  him,  or  committed  to  his  charge. 

Soon  afterwards  Rolf  passed  through  the  great 
hall  in  w^hich  Biorn  and  his  guests  were  seated,  con- 
ducting their  attendants,  who  had  charge  of  the  bag- 
gage, to  their  rooms.  Gabrielle  caught  sight  of  her 
favorite  lute,  and  desired  a  page  to  bring  it  to  her, 
that  she  might  see  if  the  precious  instrument  had 
been  injured  by  the  sea- voyage.  As  she  bent  over 
it  with  earnest  attention,  and  her  taper  fingers  ran 
up  and  down  the  strings,  a  smile,  like  the  dawn  of 
spring,  passed  over  the  dark  countenances  of  Biorn 
and  his  son  ;  and  both  said,  with  an  involuntary 
sigh,  "  Ah,  if  you  would  but  play  on  that  lute,  and 
sing  to  it !  It  would  be  but  too  beautiful ! "  The 
lady  looked  up  at  them,  well  pleased,  and  smiling 
her  assent,  she  began  this  song  :  — 

"  Songs  and  flowers  are  returning, 
And  radiant  skies  of  May, 
Earth  her  choicest  gifts  is  yielding, 
But  one  is  past  aAvay. 

*'  The  spring  that  clothes  with  tend'rest  green 
Each  grove  and  sunny  plain, 
Shines  not  for  my  forsaken  heart,  — 
Brings  not  my  joys  again. 

"Warble  not  so,  thou  nightingale, 
Upon  th}'-  blooming  spray, 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  279 

Thy  sweetness  now  will  burst  my  heart, 
I  cannot  bear  thy  lay. 

"  For  jQiowers  and  birds  are  come  again, 
And  breezes  mild  of  May, 
But  treasured  hopes  and  golden  hours 
Are  lost  to  me  for  aye !  " 

The  two  Norwegians  sat  plunged  in  melancholy 
thought ;  but  especially  Sintram's  eyes  began  to 
brighten  with  a  milder  expression,  his  cheeks  glowed, 
every  feature  softened,  till  those  who  looked  at  him 
could  have  fancied  they  saw  a  glorified  spirit.  The 
good  Rolf,  who  had  stood  listening  to  the  song,  re- 
joiced thereat  from  his  heart,  and  devoutly  raised 
his  hands  in  pious  gratitude  to  Heaven.  But  Ga- 
brielle's  astonishment  suffered  her  not  to  take  her 
eyes  from  Sintram.  At  last  she  said  to  him,  "I 
should  much  like  to  know  what  has  so  struck  y9u  in 
that  little  song,  li  is  merely  a  simple  lay  of  the 
spring,  full  of  the  images  which  that  sweet  season 
never  fails  to  call  up  in  the  minds  of  my  country- 
men." 

"But  is  your  home  really  so  lovely,  so  won- 
drously  rich  in  song  ?  "  cried  the  enraptured  Sin- 
tram.  "  Then  I  am  no  longer  surprised  at  your 
heavenly  beauty,  at  the  power  which  you  exercise 
over  my  hard,  wayward  heart !  For  a  paradise  of 
Bong  must  surely  send  such  angelic  messengers 
:;h rough  the  ruder  parts  of  the  world."  And  so  say- 
ing, he  fell  on  his  knees  before  the  lady  in  an  atti- 
tude of  deep  humility.    Folko  looked  on  all  the  while 


280  SINTRAM   AND  HIS   COMPANIONS. 

with  an  approving  smile,  whilst  Gabrielle,  in  much 
embarrassment,  seemed  hardly  to  know  how  to  treat 
the  half-wild,  half-tamed  yomig  stranger.  After 
some  hesitation,  however,  she  held  out  her  fair  hand 
to  him,  and  said  as  she  gently  raised  him  :  "  Surely 
one  who  listens  with  such  delight  to  music  must  him- 
self know  how  to  awaken  its  strains.  Take  my  lute, 
and  let  us  hear  a  graceful  inspired  song." 

But  Sintram  drew  back,  and  would  not  take  the 
instrument ;  and  he  said,  "  Heaven  forbid  that  my 
rough  untutored  hand  should  touch  those  delicate 
strings  !  For  even  were  I  to  begin  with  some  soft 
strains,  yet  before  long  the  wild  spirit  which  dwells 
in  me  would  break  out,  and  there  would  be  an  end 
of  the  form  and  sound  of  the  beautiful  instrument. 
No,  no ;  suffer  me  rather  to  fetch  my  own  huge  harp, 
strung  with  bears'  sinews  set  in  brass,  for  in  truth 
I  do  feel  myself  inspired  to  play  and  sing." 

Gabrielle  murmured  a  half-frightened  assent ;  and 
Sintram  having  quickly  brought  his  harp,  began  to 
strike  it  loudly,  and  to  sing  these  words  with  a  voice 
no  less  powerful :  — 

" '  Sir  knight,  sir  knight,  oh !  whither  away 

With  thy  snow-white  sail  on  the  foaming  spray?  ' 
Sing  heigh,  sing  ho,  for  that  land  of  flowers  I 

**  *  Too  long  have  I  trod  upon  ice  and  snow ; 
I  seek  the  bowers  where  roses  blow.' 

Sing  heigh,  sing  ho,  for  that  land  of  flowers ! 

"  He  steer'd  on  his  course  by  night  and  day 
Till  he  east  his  anciior  in  Naples  Bay. 

Sing  heigh,  sing  ho,  for  that  land  of  flowers! 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  281 

"  There  wander' d  a  lady  upon  the  strand, 
Her  fair  hair  bound  with  a  golden  band. 
Sing  heigh,  sing  ho,  for  that  land  of  flowers! 

" '  Hail  to  thee !  hail  to  thee !  lady  bright, 
Mine  own  shalt  thou  l>e  ere  morning  light.' 
Sing  heigh,  sing  ho,  for  that  land  of  flowers  I 

" '  Not  so,  sir  knight,'  the  lady  replied, 
*  For  you  speak  to  the  margrave's  chosen  bride.* 
Sing  heigh,  sing  ho,  for  that  land  of  flowers  1 

" '  Your  lover  may  come  with  his  shield  and  spear, 
And  the  victor  shall  win  thee,  lady  dear!  * 
Sing  heigh,  sing  ho,  for  that  land  of  flowers ! 

"  *  Nay,  seek  for  another  bride,  I  pray; 
Most  fair  are  the  maidens  of  Naples  Bay.' 
Sing  heigh,  sing  ho,  for  that  land  of  flowers ! 

" '  No,  lady ;  for  thee  my  heart  doth  burn, 
And  the  world  cannot  now  my  purpose  turn.' 
Sing  heigh,  sing  ho,  for  that  land  of  flowers! 

"  Then  came  the  young  margrave,  bold  and  brave; 
But  low  was  he  laid  in  a  grassy  grave. 
Sing  heigh,  sing  ho,  for  that  land  of  flowers  I 

"And  then  the  fierce  Northman  joyously  cried, 
'  Now  shall  I  possess  lands,  castle,  and  bride  I ' 
Sing  heigh,  sing  ho,  for  that  land  of  flowers  I 

Sin  tram's  song  was  ended,  but  his  eyes  glared 
wildly,  and  the  vibrations  of  the  harp-strings  still 
resounded  in  a  marvelous  manner.  Biorn's  attitude 
was  again  erect ;  he  stroked  his  long  beard  and  rat- 
tled bis  sword,  as  if  in  great  delight  at  what  he  had 


282  SINTRAM  AND  HIS   COMPANIONS. 

just  heard.  Much  shuddered  Gabrielle  before  the 
wild  song  and  these  strange  forms,  but  only  till  she 
cast  a  glance  on  the  Lord  of  Montfaucon,  who  sat 
there  smiling  in  all  his  hero  strength,  unmoved, 
while  the  rough  uproar  passed  by  him  like  an 
autumnal  storm. 


CHAPTER  Vn. 

Some  weeks  after  this,  in  the  twilight  of  even- 
ing, Sintram,  very  disturbed,  came  down  to  the  cas- 
tle-garden. Although  the  presence  of  Gabrielle 
never  failed  to  soothe  and  calm  him,  yet  if  she  left 
the  apartment  for  even  a  few  instants,  the  fearful 
wildness  of  his  spirit  seemed  to  return  with  renewed 
strength.  So  even  now,  after  having  long  and  kindly 
read  legends  of  the  olden  times  to  h^  father  Biorn, 
she  had  retired  to  her  chamber.  The  tones  of  her 
lute  could  be  distinctly  heard  in  the  garden  below ; 
but  the  sounds  only  drove  the  bewildered  youth 
more  impetuously  through  the  shades  of  the  ancient 
elms.  Stooping  suddenly  to  avoid  some  overhang- 
ing branches,  he  unexpectedly  came  upon  something 
against  which  he  had  almost  struck,  and  which,  at 
first  sight,  he  took  for  a  small  bear  standing  on  its 
hind  legs,  with  a  long  and  strangely  crooked  horn 
on  it9«head.  He  drew  back  in  surprise  and  fear.  It 
addressed  him  in  a  grating  man's  voice  :  "  Well,  my 
brave  young  knight,  whence  come  you  ?  whither  go 
you?  wherefore  so  terrified?"  And  then  first  he 
saw  that  he  had  before  him  a  little  old  man  so 
wrapped  up  in  a  rough  garment  of  fur,  that  scarcely 
one  of  his  features  was  visible,  and  wearing  in  his 
sap  a  strange-looking  long  feather. 


284  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

"  But  whence  come  you  ?  and  whither  go  you  ?  ** 
returned  the  angry  Sintram.  "  For  of  you  such 
questions  should  be  asked.  What  have  you  to  do  in 
our  domains,  you  hideous  Httle  being  ?  " 

"  Well,  well,"  sneered  the  other  one,  "  I  am  think- 
ing that  I  am  quite  big  enough  as  I  am  —  one  can- 
not always  be  a  giant.  And  as  to  the  rest,  why 
should  you  find  fault  that  I  go  here  hunting  for 
snails  ?  Surely  snails  do  not  belong  to  the  game 
which  your  high  mightinesses  consider  that  you 
alone  have  a  right  to  follow !  Now,  on  the  other 
hand,  I  know  how  to  prepare  from  them  an  excellent 
high-flavored  drink ;  and  I  have  taken  enough  for 
to-day :  marvelous  fat  little  beasts,  with  wise  faces 
like  a  man's,  and  long  twisted  horns  on  their  heads. 
Would  you  like  to  see  them  ?     Look  here  ! " 

And  then  he  began  to  unfasten  and  fumble  about 
his  fur  garment ;  but  Sintram,  filled  with  disgust 
and  horror,  said :  "  Pshaw !  I  detest  such  animals  ! 
Be  quiet,  and  tell  me  at  once  who  and  what  you 
yourself  are." 

"  Are  you  so  bent  upon  knowing  my  name  ?  "  re- 
plied the  little  man.  "  Let  it  content  you  that  I  am 
master  of  all  secret  knowledge,  and  well  versed  in 
the  most  intricate  depths  of  ancient  history.  Ah, 
my  young  sir,  if  you  would  only  hear  them!  But 
you  are  afraid  of  me." 

"  Afraid  of  you ! "  cried  Sintram,  with  a  wild 
laugh. 

"  Many  a  better  man  than  you  has  been  so  before 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  285 

now,"  muttered  the  little  Master ;  "  but  they  did  not 
like  being  told  of  it  any  more  than  you  do." 

"  To  prove  that  you  are  mistaken,"  said  Sintram, 
"  I  will  remain  here  with  you  till  the  moon  stands 
high  in  the  heavens.  But  you  must  tell  me  one  of 
your  stories  the  while." 

The  little  man,  much  pleased,  nodded  his  head ; 
and  as  they  paced  together  up  and  down  a  retired 
elm-walk,  he  began  discoursing  as  follows :  — 

"  Many  hundred  years  ago  a  young  knight,  called 
Paris  of  Troy,  lived  in  that  sunny  land  of  the  south 
where  are  found  the  sweetest  songs,  the  brightest 
flowers,  and  the  most  beautiful  ladies.  You  know  a 
song  that  tells  of  that  fair  land,  do  you  not,  young 
sir  ?  '  Sing  heigh,  sing  ho,  for  that  land  of  flowers.' " 
Sintram  bowed  his  head  in  assent,  and  sighed  deeply. 
"  Now,"  resumed  the  little  Master,  "  it  happened  that 
Paris  led  that  kind  of  life  which  is  not  uncommon 
in  those  countries,  and  of  which  their  poets  often 
sing :  he  would  pass  whole  months  together  in  the 
garb  of  a  peasant,  piping  in  the  woods  and  moun- 
tains, and  pasturing  his  flocks.  Here  one  day  three 
beautiful  sorceresses  appeared  to  him,  disputing 
about  a  golden  apple  ;  and  from  him  they  sought  to 
know  which  of  them  was  the  most  beautiful,  since  to 
her  the  golden  fruit  was  to  be  awarded.  The  first 
knew  how  to  give  thrones,  and  sceptres,  and  crowns  ; 
the  second  could  give  wisdom  and  knowledge  ;  and 
the  third  could  prepare  philters  and  love-charms 
which  could  not  fail  of  securing  the   affections  of 


286  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

the  fairest  of  women.  Each  one  in  turn  proffered 
her  choicest  gifts  to  the  young  shepherd,  in  order 
that,  tempted  by  them,  he  might  adjudge  the  apple 
to  her.  But  as  fair  women  charmed  him  more  than 
anything  else  in  the  world,  he  said  that  the  third 
was  the  most  beautiful  —  her  name  was  Venus.  The 
two  others  departed  in  great  displeasure  ;  but  Venus 
bid  him  put  on  his  knightly  armor  and  his  helmet 
adorned  with  waving  feathers,  and  then  she  led  him 
to  a  famous  city  called  Sparta,  where  ruled  the  noble 
Duke  Menelaus.  His  young  Duchess  Helen  was  the 
loveliest  woman  on  earth,  and  the  sorceress  offered 
her  to  Paris  in  return  for  the  golden  apple.  He 
was  most  ready  to  have  her,  and  wished  for  nothing 
better  ;  but  he  asked  how  he  was  to  gain  possession 
of  her." 

"  Paris  must  have  been  a  sorry  knight,"  inter- 
rupted Sintram.  "  Such  things  are  easily  settled. 
The  husband  is  challenged  to  a  single  combat,  and 
he  that  is  victorious  carries  off  the  wife." 

"  But  Duke  Menelaus  was  the  host  of  the  young 
knight/'  said  the  narrator. 

"  Listen  to  me,  little  Master,"  cried  Sintram  ;  "  he 
might  have  asked  the  sorceress  for  some  other  beau- 
tiful woman,  and  then  have  mounted  his  horse,  or 
weighed  anchor,  and  departed." 

"  Yes,  yes;  it  is  very  easy  to  say  so,"  replied  the 
old  man.  "  But  if  you  only  knew  how  bewitchingly 
lovely  this  Duchess  Helen  was,  no  room  was  left  for 
change."     And  tb.en  he  began  a  glowing  description 


SINTEAM  AND   HIS   COMPANIONS.  287 

of  the  charms  of  this  wondrously  beautiful  woman,  but 
likening  the  image'to  Gabrielle  so  closely,  feature  for 
feature,  that  Sintram,  tottering,  was  forced  to  lean 
against  a  tree.  The  little  Master  stood  opposite  to 
him  grinning,  and  asked,  "Well  now,  could  you 
have  advised  that  poor  knight  Paris  to  fly  from 
her  ?  " 

"  Tell  me  at  once  what  happened  next,"  stam- 
mered Sintram. 

"The  sorceress  acted  honorably  towards  Paris," 
continued  the  old  man.  "  She  declared  to  him  that 
if  he  would  carry  away  the  lovely  duchess  to  his  own 
city  Troy,  he  might  do  so,  and  thus  cause  the  ruin 
of  his  whole  hous6  and  of  his  country;  but  that 
during  ten  years  he  would  be  able  to  defend  himself 
in  Troy,  and  rejoice  in  the  sweet  love  of  Helen." 

"  And  he  accepted  those  terms,  or  he  was  a  fool ! " 
cried  the  youth. 

"  To  be  sure  he  accepted  them,"  whispered  the  lit- 
tle Master.  "  T  would  have  done  so  in  his  place  ! 
And  do  you  know,  young  sir,  the  look  of  things  then 
was  just  as  they  are  happening  to-day.  The  newly 
risen  moon,  partly  veiled  by  clouds,  was  shining 
dimly  through  the  thick  branches  of  the  trees  in  the 
silence  of  evening.  Leaning  against  an  old  tree,  as 
you  now  are  doing,  stood  the  young  enamored  knight 
Paris,  and  at  his  side  the  enchantress  Venus,  but  so 
disguised  and  transformed,  that  she  did  not  look 
much  more  beautiful  than  I  do.  And  by  the  silvery 
light  of  the  moon,  the  form  of  the  beautiful,  beloved 


288  SINIRAM  AND  HIS   COMPANIONS. 

one  was  seen  sweeping  by  alone  amidst  the  whisper- 
ing boughs."  He  was  silent,  and  like  as  in  the  mir- 
ror of  his  deluding  words,  Gabrielle  just  then  ac- 
tually herself  appeared,  musing  as  she  walked  alone 
down  the  alley  of  elms. 

"  Man,  —  fearful  Master,  —  by  what  name  shall  I 
call  yoii  ?  To  what  would  you  drive  me  ?  "  muttered 
the  trembling  Sintram. 

"  Thou  knowest  thy  father's  strong  stone  castle  on 
the  Moon-rocks !  "  replied  the  old  man.  "  The  cas- 
tellan and  the  garrison  are  true  and  devoted  to  thee. 
It  could  stand  a  ten  years'  siege ;  and  the  little  gate 
which  leads  to  the  hills  is  open,  as  was  that  of  the 
citadel  of  Sparta  for  Paris."  And,  in  fact,  the  youth 
saw  through  a  gate,  left  open  he  knew  not  how,  the 
dim,  distant  mountains  glittering  in  the  moonlight. 
"  And  if  he  did  not  accept,  he  was  a  fool,"  said  the 
little  Master,  with  a  grin,  echoing  Sintram's  former 
words. 

At  that  moment  Gabrielle  stood  close  by  him. 
She  was  within  reach  of  his  grasp,  had  he  made  the 
least  movement ;  and  a  moonbeam,  suddenly  break- 
ing forth,  transfigured,  as  it  were,  her  heavenly 
beauty.    The  youth  had  already  bent  forward  — 

"  My  Lord  and  God,  I  pray, 
Turn  from  his  heart  away 
This  world's  turmoil; 
And  call  him  to  Thy  light, 
Be  it  through  sorrow's  night, 
Through  pain  or  toil." 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  289 

These  words  were  sung  by  old  Rolf  at  that  very 
time,  as  he  lingered  on  the  still  margin  of  the  castle 
fish-pond,  where  he  prayed  alone  to  Heaven,  full  of 
foreboding  care.  They  reached  Sintram's  ear ;  he 
stood  as  if  spell-bound,  and  made  the  sign  of  the 
cross.  Immediately  the  little  Master  fled  away, 
jumping  uncouthly  on  one  leg,  through  the  gates, 
and  shutting  them  after  him  with  a  yell. 

Gabrielle  shuddered,,  terrified  at  the  wild  noise. 
Sintram  approached  her  softly,  and  said,  offering  his 
arm  to  her :  "  Suffer  me  to  lead  you  back  to  the 
castle.  The  night  in  these  northern  regions  is  often 
wild  and  fearful." 

19 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

They  found  the  two  knights  drinking  wine  within. 
Folko  was  relating  stories  in  his  usual  mild  and 
cheerful  manner,  and  l)ioi:n  was  listening  with  a 
moody  air,  but  yet  as  if,  against  his  will,  the  dark 
cloud  might  pass  away  before  that  bright  and  gentle 
courtesy.  Gabrielle  saluted  the  baron  with  a  smile, 
and  signed  to  him  to  continue  his  discourse,  as  she 
took  her  place  near  the  knight  Biorn,  full  of  watchful 
kindness.  Sintram  stood  by  the  hearth,  abstracted 
and  melancholy  ;  and  the  embers,  as  he  stirred  them, 
cast  a  strange  glow  over  his  pallid  features. 

"  And  of  all  the  German  trading  towns,"  continued 
Montfaucpn,  "the  largest  and  richest  is  Hamburg. 
In  Normandy  we  willingly  see  their  merchants  land 
on  our  coasts,  and  those  excellent  people  never  fail 
to  prove  themselves  our  friends  when  we  seek  their 
advice  and  assistance.  When  I  first  visited  Ham- 
burg, every  honor  and  respect  was  paid  to  me.  I 
found  its  inhabitants  engaged  in  a  war  with  a  neigh- 
boring count,  and  immediately  I  used  my  sword  for 
them,  vigorously  and  successfully." 

"  Your  sword !  your  knightly  sword  !  "  interrupted 
Biorn ;  and  the  old  wonted  fire  flashed  from  his 
eyes.     "  Against  a  knight,  and  for  shopkeepers  !  " 


SINTRAM  AND   HIS   COMPANIONS.  2^1 

"  Sir  knight,"  replied  Folko,  calmly,  "  the  barons 
of  Montfaucon  have  ever  used  their  swords  as  they 
chose,  without  the  interference  of  another ;  and  as  I 
have  received  this  good  custom,  so  do  I  wish  to  hand 
it  on.  If  you  agree  not  to  this,  so  speak  it  freely 
out.  But  I  forbid  every  rude  word  against  the  men 
of  Hamburg,  since  I  have  declared  them  to  be  my 
friends." 

Biorn  cast  down  his  haughty  eyes,  and  their  fire 
faded  away.  In  a  low  voice  he  said,  "  Proceed, 
noble  baron.     You  are  right,  and  I  am  wrong." 

Then  Folko  stretched  out  his  hand  to  him  across 
the  table,  and  resumed  his  narration  :  "  Amongst  all 
my  beloved  Hamburgers  the  dearest  to  me  are  two 
men  of  marvelous  experience  —  a  father  and  son. 
What  have  they  not  seen  and  done  in  the  remotest 
corners  of  the  earth,  and  instituted  in  their  native 
town  !  Praise  be  to  God,  my  life  cannot  be  called 
unfruitful ;  but,  compared  with  the  wise  Gotthard 
Lenz  and  his  stout-hearted  son  Rudlieb,  I  look  upon 
myself  as  an  esquire  who  has  perhaps  been  some  few 
times  to  tourneys,  and,  besides  that,  has  never  hunted 
out  of  his  own  forests.  They  have  converted,  sub- 
dued, gladdened  dark  men  whom  I  know  not  how  to 
name  ;  and  the  wealth  which  they  have  brought  back 
with  them  has  all  been  devoted  to  the  common  weal, 
as  if  fit  for  no  other  purpose.  On  their  return  from 
their  long  and  perilous  sea-voyages,  they  hasten  to 
an  hospital  which  has  been  founded  by  them,  and 
where  they  undertake  the  part  of  overseers,  and  of 


292  SINTEAM  AND   HIS  COMPANIONS. 

careful  and  patient  nurses.  Then  they  proceed  to 
select  the  most  fitting  spots  whereon  to  erect  new 
towers  and  fortresses  for  the  defense  of  their  beloved 
country.  Next  they  repair  to  the  houses  where 
strangers  and  travellers  receive  hospitality  at  their 
cost ;  and  at  last  they  return  to  their  own  abode,  to 
entertain  their  guests,  rich  and  noble  like  kings,  and 
simple  and  unconstrained  like  shepherds.  Many  a 
tale  of  their  wondrous  adventures  serves  to  enliven 
these  sumptuous  feasts.  Amongst  others,  I  remem- 
ber to  have  heard  my  friends  relate  one  at  which  my 
hair  stood  on  end.  Possibly  I  may  gain  some  more 
complete  information  on  the  subject  from  you.  It 
appears  that  several  years  ago,  just  about  the  time 
of  the  Christmas  festival,  Gotthard  and  Rudlieb  were 
shipwrecked  on  the  coast  of  Norway,  during  a  vio- 
lent winter  tempest.  They  could  never  exactly  as- 
certain the  situation  of  the  rocks  on  which  their 
vessel  stranded ;  but  so  much  is  certain,  that  very 
near  the  sea-shore  stood  a  huge  castle,  to  which  the 
father  and  son  betook  themselves,  seeking  for  that 
assistance  and  shelter  which  Christian  people  are 
ever  willing  to  afford  each  other  in  case  of  need. 
They  went  alone,  leaving  their  followers  to  watch 
the  injured  ship.  The  castle  gates  were  thrown 
open,  and  they  thought  all  was  well.  But  on  a  sud- 
den the  court-yard  was  filled  with  armed  men,  who 
with  one  accord,  aimed  their  sharp,  iron-pointed 
spears  at  the  defenseless  strangers ;  whose  dignified 
remonstrances  and  !nild  entreaties  were  only  heard 


SINTRAM  AND   HIS   COMPANIOISS.  293 

in  sullen  silence  or  with  scornful  jeerings.  After  a 
while  a  knight  came  down  the  stairs,  with  fire-flash- 
ing eyes.  They  hardly  knew  whether  to  think  they 
saw  a  spectre,  or  a  wild  heathen ;  he  gave  a  signal, 
and  the  fatal  spears  closed  around  them.  At  that 
instant  the  soft  tones  of  a  woman's  voice  fell  on  their 
ear,  calling  on  the  Saviour's  holy  name  for  aid ;  at 
the  sound,  the  spectres  in  the  court-yard  rushed 
madly  one  against  the  other,  the  gates  burst  open, 
and  Gotthard  and  Rudlieb  fled  away,  catching  a 
glimpse  as  they  went  of  an  angelic  woman  who  ap- 
peared at  one  of  the  windows  of  the  castle.  They 
made  every  exertion  to  get  their  ship  again  afloat, 
choosing  to  trust  themselves  to  the  sea  rather  than 
to  that  barbarous  coast ;  and  at  last,  after  manifold 
dangers,  they  landed  at  Denmark.  They  say  that 
some  heathen  must  have  owned  the  cruel  castle ; 
but  I  hold  it  to  be  some  ruined  fortress,  deserted  by 
men,  in  which  hellish  spectres  were  wont  to  hold 
their  nightly  meetings.  What  heathen  could  b^ 
found  so  demon-like  as  to  ofler  death  to  shipwrecked 
strangers,  instead  of  refreshment  and  shelter  ?  " 

Biorn  gazed  fixedly  on  the  ground,  as  though  hfr 
were  turned  into  stone,  but  Sintram  came  towards 
the  table,  and  said,  "  Father,  let  us  seek  out  this 
godless  abode,  and  lay  it  level  with  the  dust.  I  can- 
not tell  how,  but  somehow  I  feel  quite  sure  that  the 
accursed  deed  of  which  we  have  just  heard  is  alone 
the  cause  of  my  frightful  dreams." 

Enraged  at  his  son,  Biorn  rose  up,  and  would  per- 


294  SINTRAM  AND   HIS   COMPANIONS. 

haps  again  have  uttered  some  dreadful  words ;  but 
Heaven  decreed  otherwise,  for  just  at  that  moment 
the  pealing  notes  of  a  trumpet  were  heard,  which 
drowned  the  angry  tones  of  his  voice,  the  great 
doors  opened  slowly,  and  a  herald  entered  the  hall. 
He  bowed  reverently,  and  then  said,  "  I  am  sent  by 
Jarl  Eric  the  Aged.  He  returned  two  days  ago  from 
his  expedition  to  the  Grecian  seas.  His  wish  had 
been  to  take  vengeance  on  the  island  which  is  called 
Chios,  where  fifty  years  ago  his  father  was  slain  by  the 
soldiers  of  the  emperor.  But  your  kinsman,  the  sea- 
king  Arinbiorn,  who  was  lying  there  at  anchor,  tried 
to  pacify  him.  To  this  Jarl  Eric  would  not  listen ; 
so  the  sea-king  said  next  that  he  would  never  suffer 
Chios  to  be  laid  waste,  because  it  was  an  island 
where  the  lays  of  an  old  Greek  bard,  called  Homer, 
were  excellently  sung,  and  where,  moreover,  a  very 
choice  wine  was  made.  Words  proving  of  no  avail, 
a  combat  ensued ;  in  which  Arinbiorn  had  so  much 
the  advantage  that  Jarl  Eric  lost  two  of  his  ships, 
and  only  with  difficulty  escaped  in  one  which  had 
already  sustained  great  damage.  Eric  the  Aged  has 
now  resolved  to  take  revenge  on  some  of  the  sea- 
king's  race,  since  Arinbiorn  himself  is  seldom  on  the 
spot.  Will  you,  Biorn  of  the  Fiery  Eyes,  at  once 
pay  as  large  a  penalty  in  cattle,  and  money,  and 
goods,  as  it  may  please  the  Jarl  to  demand?  Or 
will  you  prepare  to  meet  him  with  an  armed  force  at 
Niflung's  Heath  seven  days  hence?" 

Biorn  bowed   his   head   quietly,  and  replied  in  a 


SINTRAM  AND   HIS   COMPANIONS.  295 

mild  tone,  "  Seven  days  hence  at  Niflimg's  Heath." 
He  then  offered  to  the  herald  a  golden  goblet  full  of 
rich  wine,  and  added,  "  Drink  that,  and  then  carry 
off  with  thee  the  cup  which  thou  hast  emptied." 

"  The  Baron  of  Montfaucon  likewise  sends  greet- 
ing to  thy  chieftain,  Jarl  Eric,"  interposed  Folko ; 
"  and  engages  to  be  also  at  Niflung's  Heath,  as  the 
hereditary  friend  of  the  sea-king,  and  also  as  the 
kinsman  and  guest  of  Biorn  of  the  Fiery  Eyes." 

The  herald  was  seen  to  tremble  at  the  name  of 
Montfaucon ;  he  bowed  very  low,  cast  an  anxious, 
reverential  look  at  the  baron,  and  left  the  hall. 

Gabrielle  looked  on  her  knight,  smiling  lovingly 
and  securely,  for  she  well  knew  his  victorious 
prowess ;  and  she  only  asked,  "  Where  shall  I  re- 
main, whilst  you  go  forth  to  battle,  Folko  ?  " 

"  I  had  hoped,"  answered  Biorn,  "  that  you  would 
be  well  contented  to  stay  in  this  castle,  lovely  lady ; 
I  leave  my  son  to  guard  you  and  attend  on  you." 

Gabrielle  hesitated  an  instant ;  and  Sintram,  who 
had  resumed  his  position  near  the  fire,  muttered  to 
himself  as  he  fixed  his  eyes  on  the  bright  flames 
which  were  flashing  up,  "  Yes,  yes  ;  so  it  will  prob- 
ably happen.  T  can  fancy  that  Duke  Menelaus  had 
just  left  Sparta  on  some  warlike  expedition,  when 
the  young  knight  Paris  met  the  lovely  Helen  that 
evening  in  the  garden." 

But  Gabrielle,  shuddering,  although  she  knew  not 
why,  said  quickly,  ''  Without  you,  Folko  ?  And  must 
I  forego  the  joy  of  seeing  you  fight  ?  or  the  honor 


296  SINTRAM   AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

of  tending  yoii,  should  you  chance  to  receive  a 
wound  ? " 

Folko  bowed,  gracefully  thanking  his  lady,  and 
replied,  "  Come  with  your  knight,  since  such  is  your 
pleasure,  and  be  to  him  a  bright  guiding  star.  It  is 
a  good  old  northern  custom  that  ladies  should  be 
present  at  knightly  combats,  and  no  true  warrior  of 
the  north  will  fail  to  respect  the  place  whence  beams 
the  light  of  their  eyes.  Unless,  indeed,"  continued 
he  with  an  inquiring  look  at  Biorn,  "  unless  Jarl 
Eric  is  not  worthy  of  his  forefather  ?  " 

"  A  man  of  honor,"  said  Biorn  confidently. 

"  Then  array  yourself,  my  fairest  love,"  said  the 
delighted  Folko ;  "  array  yourself,  and  come  forth 
with  us  to  the  battle-field  to  behold  and  judge  our 
deeds." 

"  Come  forth  with  us  to  the  battle,"  echoed  Sin- 
tram  in  a  sudden  transport  of  joy. 

And  they  all  dispersed  in  calm  cheerfulness ;  Sin- 
tram  betaking  himself  again  to  the  wood,  while  the 
others  retired  to  rest. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

It  was  a  wild  dreary  tract  of  country  that,  which 
bore  the  name  of  Niflung's  Heath.  According  to 
tradition,  the  young  Niflung,  son  of  Hogni,  the  last 
of  his  race,  had  there  ended  darkly  a  sad  and  unsuc 
cessful  life.  Many  ancient  grave-stones  were  still 
standing  round  about ;  and  in  the  few  oak-trees  scat- 
tered here  and  there  over  the  plain,  huge  eagles  had 
built  their  nests.  The  beating  of  their  heavy  wings 
as  they  fought  together,  and  their  wild  screams,  were 
heard  far  off  in  more  thickly  peopled  regions ;  and 
at  the  sound  children  would  tremble  in  their  cradles, 
and  old  men  quake  with  fear  as  they  slumbered  over 
the  blazing  hearth. 

As  the  seventh  night,  the  last  before  the  day  of 
combat,  was  just  beginning,  two  large  armies  were 
seen  descending  from  the  hills  in  opposite  direc- 
tions :  that  which  came  from  the  west  was  com- 
manded by  Eric  the  Aged,  that  from  the  east  by 
Biorn  of  the  Fiery  Eyes.  They  appeared  thus  early 
in  compliance  with  the  custom  which  required  that 
adversaries  should  always  present  themselves  at  the 
appointed  field  of  battle  before  the  time  named,  in 
order  to  prove  that  they  rather  sought  than  dreaded 


298  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

the  fight.  Folko  forthwith  pitched  on  the  most  con« 
venient  spot  the  tent  of  bhie  samite  fringed  with 
gold,  which  he  carried  with  hnn  to  shelter  his  gentle 
lady;  whilst  Sintrani,  in  the  character  of  herald, 
rode  over  to  Jarl  Eric  to  announce  to  him  that  the 
beauteous  Gabrielle  of  Montfaucon  was  present  in 
the  army  of  the  knight  Biorn,  and  would  the  next 
morning  be  present  as  a  judge  of  the  combat. 

Jarl  P>ic  bowed  low  on  receiving  this  pleasing 
message  ;  and  ordered  his  bards  to  strike  up  a  lay, 
tne  words  of  which  ran  as  follows :  — 

"  Warriors  bold  of  Eric's  band, 
Gird  your  glittering  armor  on ; 
Stand  beneath  to-morrow's  sun 

In  your  might. 

"  Fairest  dame  that  ever  gladden'd 
Our  wild  shores  with  beauty's  vision, 
May  thy  bright  eyes  o'er  our  combat 
Judge  the  right  I 

"  Tidings  of  yon  noble  stranger 
Long  ago  have  reach' d  our  ears, 
"Wafted  upon  southern  breezes 

O'er  the  wave. 

"  Now  midst  yonder  hostile  ranks 
In  his  warlike  pride  he  meets  us : 
Folko  comes  !  Fight,  men  of  Eric, 

True  and  brave !  " 

These  woundrous  tones  floated  over  the  plain,  and 
reached  the  tent  of  Gabrielle.  It  was  no  new  thing 
to  her  to  hear  her  knight's  fame  celebrated  on  all 
sides  ;  but  now  that  she  listened  to  his  praises  burst- 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  299 

ing  forth  in  the  stillness  of  night  from  the  mouth  of 
his  enemies,  she  could  scarce  refrain  from  kneeling 
at  the  feet  of  the  mighty  chieftain.  But  he  with 
courteous  tenderness  held  her  up,  and  pressing  his 
lips  fervently  on  her  soft  hand,  he  said,  "  My  deeds, 
O  lovely  lady,  belong  to  thee,  and  not  to  me  !  " 

Now  the  night  had  passed  away,  and  the  east  was 
glowing ;  and  on  Niflung's  Heath  there  was  waving, 
and  resounding,  and  glowing  too.  Knights  put  on 
their  rattling  arnior,  war-horses  began  to  neigh,  the 
morning  draught  went  round  in  gold  and  silver 
goblets,  while  war-songs  and  the  clang  of  harps  re- 
sounded in  the  midst.  A  joyous  march  was  heard  in 
Biorn's  camp,  as  Montfaucon,  with  his  troops  and 
retainers,  clad  in  bright  steel  armor,  conducted  their 
lady  up  to  a  neighboring  hill,  where  she  would  be 
safe  from  the  spears  which  would  soon  be  flying  in 
all  directions,  and  whence  she  could  look  freely  over 
the  battle-field.  The  morning  sun,  as  it  were  in 
homage,  played  over  her  beauty ;  and  as  she  came 
in  view  of  the  camp  of  Jarl  Eric,  his  soldiers  lowered 
their  weapons,  whilst  the  chieftains  bent  low  the 
crests  of  their  huge  helmets.  Two  of  Montfaucon's 
pages  remained  in  attendance  on  Gabrielle ;  for  so 
noble  a  service  not  unwillingly  bridling  their  love  of 
fighting.  Both  armies  passed  in  front  of  her,  salut- 
ing her  and  singing  as  they  went ;  they  then  placed 
themselves  in  array,  and  the  fight  began. 

The  spears  flew  from  the  hands  of  the  stout  north- 
ern warriors,  rj^ttling  against  the  broad  shields  under 


300  SINTRAM  AND   HIS   COMPANIONS. 

which  they  sheltered  themselves,  or  sometimes  clat- 
tering as  they  met  in  the  air ;  at  intervals,  on  one 
side  or  the  other,  a  man  was  struck,  and  fell  silent  in 
his  blood.  Then  the  Knight  of  Mountfaucon  ad- 
vanced with  his  troop  of  Norman  horsemen  —  even 
as  he  dashed  past,  he  did  not  fail  to  lower  his  shin- 
ing sword  to  salute  Gabrielle  ;  and  then  with  an 
exulting  war-cry,  which  burst  from  many  a  voice, 
they  charged  the  left  wing  of  the  enemy.  Eric's 
foot-soldiers,  kneeling  firmly,  received  them  with 
fixed  javelins  —  many  a  noble  horse  fell  wounded  to 
death,  and  in  falling  brought  his  rider  with  him  to 
the  ground ;  others  again  crushed  their  foes  under 
them  in  their  death-fall.  Folko  rushed  through  — 
he  and  his  war-steed  unwounded  —  followed  by  a 
troop  of  chosen  knights.  Already  were  they  falling 
into  disorder  —  already  were  Biorn's  warriors  giving 
shouts  of  victoi-y  —  when  a  troop  of  horse,  headed 
by  Jarl  Eric  himself,  advanced  against  the  valiant 
baron  ;  and  whilst  his  Normans,  hastily  assembled, 
assisted  him  in  repelling  this  new  attack,  the  enemy's 
infantry  were  gradually  forming  themselves  into  a 
thick  mass,  wliich  rolled  on  and  on.  All  these 
movements  seemed  caused  by  a  warrior  whose  loud 
piercing  shout  was  heard  in  the  midst.  And  scarcely 
were  the  troops  formed  into  this  strange  array,  when 
suddenly  they  spread  themselves  out  on  all  sides, 
carrying  everything  before  them  with  the  irresistible 
force  of  the  burning  torrent  from  Hecla. 

Biorn's  soldiers,  who  had  thought  to  inclose  theii 


SINTRAM   AND   HIS   COMPANIONS.  301 

enemies,  lost  courage  and  gave  way  before  this  won- 
drous onset.  The  knight  himself  in  vain  attempted 
to  stem  the  tide  of  fugitives,  and  with  difficulty  es- 
caped being  carried  away  by  it. 

Sintram  stood  looking  on  this  scene  of  confusion 
with  mute  indignation  ;  friends  and  foes  passed  by 
him,  all  equally  avoiding  him,  and  dreading  to  come, 
in  contact  with  one  whose  aspect  was  so  fearful,  nay, 
almost  unearthly,  in  his  motionless  rage.  He  aimed 
no  blow  either  to  right  or  left ;  his  powerful  battle- 
axe  rested  in  his  hand  ;  but  his  eyes  flashed  fire,  and 
seemed  to  be  piercing  the  enemy's  ranks  through 
and  through,  as  if  be  would  find  out  who  it  was 
that  had  conjured  up  this  sudden  warlike  spirit. 
He  succeeded.  A  small  man  clothed  in  strange- 
looking  armor,  with  large  golden  horns  on  his 
helmet,  and  a  long  visor  advancing  in  front  of  it, 
was  leaning  on  a  two-edged  curved  spear,  and 
seemed  to  be  looking  with  derision  at  the  flight  of 
Biorn's  troops  as  they  were  pursued  by  their  vic- 
torious foes.  "  That  is  he,"  cried  Sintram  ;  "  he  who. 
will  drive  us  from  the  field  before  the  eyes  of  Ga- 
brielle ! "  And  with  the  swiftness  of  an  arrow  he 
flew  towards  him  with  a  wild  shout.  The  combat  was 
fierce,  but  not  of  long  duration.  To  the  wondrous 
dexterity  of  his  adversary,  Sintram  opposed  his  far 
superior  size  ;  and  he  dealt  so  fearful  a  blow  on  the 
horned  helmet,  that  a  stream  of  blood  rushed  forth, 
the  small  man  fell  as  if  stunned,  and  after  some 
frightful  convulsive  movements,  his  limbs  appeared 
to  stiffen  in  death. 


302  SINTRAM  AND   HIS  COMPANIONS. 

His  fall  gave  the  signal  for  that  of  all  Eric's  army. 
Even  those  who  had  not  seen  him  fall,  suddenly  lost 
their  courage  and  eagerness  for  the  battle,  and  re- 
treated with  uncertain  steps,  or  ran  in  wild  affright 
on  the  spears  of  their  enemies.  At  the  same  time 
Montfaucon  was  dispersing  Jarl  Eric's  cavalry,  after 
a  desperate  conflict,  —  had  hurled  their  chief  from 
the  saddle,  and  taken  him  prisoner  with  his  own 
hand.  Biorn  of  the  Fiery  Eyes  stood  victorious  in 
the  middle  of  the  field  of  battle.    The  day  was  won. 


CHAPTER  X. 

In  sight  of  both  armies,  with  glowing  cheeks 
and  looks  of  modest  humility,  Sintram  was  con- 
ducted by  the  brave  baron  up  the  hill  where  Ga- 
brielle  stood  in  all  the  lustre  of  her  beauty.  Both 
warriors  bent  the  knee  before  her,  and  Folko  said, 
solemnly,  "  Lady,  this  valiant  youth  of  a  noble  race 
has  deserved  the  reward  of  this  day's  victory.  I  pray 
you  let  him  receive  it  from  your  fair  hand." 

Gabrielle  bowed  courteously,  took  off  her  scarf  of 
blue  and  gold,  and  fastened  to  it  a  bright  sword, 
which  a  page  brought  to  her  on  a  cushion  of  cloth 
of  silver.  She  then,  with  a  smile,  presented  the 
noble  gift  to  Sintram,  who  was  bending  forward  to 
receive  it,  when  suddenly  Gabrielle  drew  back,  and 
turning  to  Folko  said,  "  Noble  baron,  should  not  he 
on  whom  I  bestow  a  scarf  and  sword  be  first  admit- 
ted into  the  order  of  knighthood?"  Light  as  a 
feather,  Folko  sprang  up,  and  bowing  low  before 
his  lady,  gave  the  youth  the  accolade  with  solemn 
earnestness.  Then  Gabrielle  buckled  on  his  sword, 
saying,  "  For  the  honor  of  God  and  the  service  of 
virtuous  ladies,  young  knight.  I  saw  you  fight,  I 
saw  you  conquer,  and  my  earnest  prayers  followed 


304  SINTRAM  AND   IlIS   COMPANIONS. 

you.  Fight  and  conquer  often  again,  as  you  have 
done  this  day,  that  the  beams  of  your  renown  may 
shine  over  my  far-distant  country."  And  at  a  sign 
from  Folko,  she  offered  her  tender  h*ps  for  the  new 
knight  to  kiss.  Thrilling  all  over,  and  full  of  a  holy 
joy,  Sintram  arose  in  silence,  and  hot  tears  streamed 
down  his  softened  countenance,  whilst  the  shout  and 
the  trumpets  of  the  assembled  troops  greeted  the 
youth  with  stunning  applause.  Old  Rolf  stood  si- 
lently on  one  side,  and  as  he  looked  in  the  mild 
beaming  eyes  of  his  foster-child,  he  calmly  and 
piously  returned  thanks  :  — 

"  The  strife  at  length  hath  found  its  end, 
Rich  blessings  now  shall  heaven  send ! 
The  evil  foe  is  slain !  " 

Biorn  and  Jarl  Eric  had  the  while  been  talking 
together  eagerly,  but  not  unkindly.  The  conqueror 
now  led  his  vanquished  enemy  up  the  hill  and  pre- 
sented him  to  the  baron  and  Gabrielle,  saying,  "  In- 
stead of  two  enemies,  you  now  see  two  sworn  allies ; 
and  I  request  yon,  my  beloved  guests  and  kinsfolk, 
receive  him  graciously  as  one  who  hence  forward 
belongs  to  us." 

He  was  so  always,"  added  Eric,  smiling.  "I 
sought,  indeed,  revenge  ;  but  I  have  now  had  enough 
of  defeats  both  by  sea  and  land.  Yet  I  thank  Heaven 
that  neither  in  the  Grecian  seas,  to  the  sea-king,  nor 
on  Niflung's  Heath,  to  you,  have  I  yielded  inglo- 
riously." 

The  Lord  of  Montfancon  assented  cordially,  and 


SINTRAM  AND   HIS   COMPANIONS.  305 

heartily  and  solemnly  was  reconciliation  made. 
Then  Jarl  Eric  addressed  Gabrielle  with  so  noble 
a  grace,  that  with  a  smile  of  wonder  she  gazed  on 
the  gigantic  gray  hero,  and  gave  him  her  beautiful 
hand  to  kiss. 

Meanwhile  Sintram  was  speaking  earnestly  to  his 
good  Rolf;  and  at  length  he  was  heard  to  say,  "  But 
before  all,  be  sure  that  you  bury  that  wonderfully 
brave  knight  w^iom  my  battle-axe  smote.  Choose 
out  the  greenest  hill  for  his  resting-place,  and  the 
loftiest  oak  to  shade  his  grave.  Also,  I  wish  you 
to  open  his  visor,  and  to  examine  his  countenance 
carefully,  that  so,  though  mortally  smitten,  we  may 
not  bury  him  alive ;  and  moreover,  that  you  may 
be  able  to  describe  to  me  him  to  whom  I  owe  the 
noblest  prize  of  victory." 

Rolf  bowed  readily,  and  went. 

"  Our  young  knight  is  speaking  there  of  one 
amongst  the  slain  of  whom  I  should  like  to  hear 
more,"  said  Folko,  turning  to  Jarl  Eric.  "  Who, 
dear  Jarl,  was  that  wonderful  chieftain  who  led  on 
your  troops  so  skillfully,  and  who  at  last  fell  under 
Sintram's  powerful  battle-axe  ?  " 

"  You  ask  me  more  than  I  know  how  to  answer," 
replied  Jarl  Eric.  "  About  three  nights  ago  this 
stranger  made  his  appearance  amongst  us.  I  was 
sitting  with  my  chieftains  and  warriors  round  the 
hearth,  forging  our  armor,  and  singing  the  while. 
Suddenly,  above  the  din  of  our  hammering  and  our 
singing  we  heard  sr  ^oud  a  noise  that  it  silenced  us 
20 


306  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

in  a  moment,  and  we  sat  motionless  as  if  we  had 
been  turned  into  stone.  Before  long  the  sound  was 
repeated ;  and  at  last  we  made  out  that  it  must  be 
caused  by  some  person  blowing  a  huge  horn  outside 
the  castle,  seeking  for  admittance.  I  went  down 
myself  to  the  gate,  and  as  I  passed  through  the 
court-yard  all  my  dogs  were  so  terrified  by  the  ex- 
traordinary noise  as  to  be  howling  and  crouching  in 
their  kennels  instead  of  barking.  I  chid  them,  and 
called  to  them,  but  even  the  fiercest  would  not  follow 
me.  Then,  thought  I,  I  must  vshow  you  the  way  to 
set  to  work,  so  I  grasped  my  sword  firmly,  I  set  my 
torch  on  the  ground  close  beside  me,  and  I  let  the 
gates  fly  open  without  further  delay.  For  I  well 
knew  that  it  would  be  no  easy  matter  for  any  one 
to  come  in  against  my  will.  A  loud  laugh  greeted 
me,  and  I  heard  these  words,  '  Well,  well,  what 
mighty  preparations  are  these  before  one  small  man 
can  find  the  shelter  he  seeks  ! '  And  in  truth  I  did 
feel  myself  redden  with  shame  when  I  saw  the  small 
stranger  standing  opposite  to  me  quite  alone.  I 
called  to  him  to  come  in  at  once,  and  offered  my 
hand  to  him  ;  but  he  still  showed  some  displeasure, 
and  would  not  give  me  his  in  return.  As  he  went 
up,  however,  he  became  more  friendly ;  he  showed 
^e  the  golden  horn  on  which  he  sounded  that 
olast,  and  which  he  carried  screwed  on  his  helmet, 
.s  well  as  another  exactly  like  it.  When  he  was 
sitting  with  us  in  the  hall,  he  behaved  in  a  very 
strange   manner:    sometimes   he  was    merry,  some- 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  307 

times  cross ;  by  turns  courteous  and  rude  in  his 
demeanor,  without  any  one  being  able  to  see  a  mo- 
tive for  such  constant  changes.  I  longed  to  know 
where  he  came  from  ;  but  how  could  I  ask  my  guest 
such  a  question  ?  He  told  us  as  much  as  this,  that 
he  was  starved  with  cold  in  our  country,  and  that  his 
own  was  much  warmer.  Also  he  appeared  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  city  of  Constantinople,  and  related 
fearful  stories  of  how  brothers,  uncles,  and  nephews, 
nay,  even  fathers  and  sons,  thrust  each  other  from 
the  throne,  blinded,  cut  out  tongues,  and  murdered. 
At  length  he  said  his  own  name  —  it  sounded  har- 
monious, hke  a  Greek  name,  but  none  of  us  could 
remember  it.  Before  long  he  displayed  his  skill  as 
an  armorer.  He  understood  marvelously  well  how 
to  handle  the  red-hot  iron,  and  how  to  form  it  into 
more  murderous  weapons  than  any  I  had  ever  before 
seen.  I  would  not  suffer  him  to  go  on  making  them, 
for  I  was  resolved  to  meet  you  in  the  field  with  equal 
arms,  and  such  as  we  are  all  used  to  in  our  northern 
countries.  Then  he  laughed,  and  said  he  thought 
it  would  be  quite  possible  to  be  victorious  without 
them,  by  skillful  movements  and  the  like  ;  if  only  I 
would  intrust  the  command  of  my  infantry  to  him,  I 
was  sure  of  victory.  Then  I  thought  that  he  who 
makes  arms  well  must  also  wield  them  well :  yet  I 
required  some  proof  of  his  powers.  Ye  lords,  he 
came  off  victorious  in  trials  of  strength  such  as  you 
can  hardly  imagine  ;  and  although  the  fame  of  young 
Sintram,  as  a  bold  and  brave  warrior,  is  spread  far 


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CHAPTER  XI. 

The  joyful  calm  which  came  over  Sintram  on  this 
day  appeared  to  be  more  than  a  passing  gleam.  If 
too,  at  times,  a  thought  of  the  knight  Paris  and 
Helen  would  inflame  his  heart  with  bolder  and 
wilder  wishes,  it  needed  but  one  look  at  his  scarf 
and  sword,  and  the  stream  of  his  inner  life  glided 
again  clear  as  a  mirror,  and  serene  within.  "  What 
can  any  man  wish  for  more  than  has  been  already 
bestowed  on  me  ?  "  would  he  say  to  himself  at  such 
times,  in  still  delight.  And  thus  it  went  on  for  a 
long  while. 

The  beautiful  northern  autumn  had  already  begun 
to  redden  the  leaves  of  the  oaks  and  elms  round  the 
castle,  when  one  day  it  chanced  that  Sintram  was  sit- 
ting in  company  with  Folko  and  Gabrielle  in  almost 
the  very  same  spot  in  the  garden  where  he  had 
before  met  that  mysterious  being  whom,  without 
knowing  why,  he  had  named  the  Little  Master.  But 
on  this  day  how  different  did  everything  appear 
The  sun  was  sinking  slowly  over  the  sea  ;  the  mist  of 
an  autumnal  evening  was  rising  from  the  fields  and 
meadows  around  towards  the  hill  on  which  stood  the 
huge  castle.     Gabrielle,  placing  her  lute  in  Sintram's 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  311 

hands,  said  to  him,  "  Dear  friend,  so  mild  and  gentle 
as  you  now  are,  I  may  well  dare  to  intrust  to  you 
my  tender  little  darling.  Let  me  again  hear  you 
sing  that  lay  of  the  land  of  flowers  ;  for  I  am  sure 
that  it  will  now  sound  much  sweeter  than  when  you 
accompanied  it  with  the  vibrations  of  your  fearful 
harp." 

The  young  knight  bowed  as  he  prepared  to  obey 
the  lady's  commands.  With  a  grace  and  softness 
hitherto  unwonted,  the  tones  resounded  from  his 
lips,  and  the  wild  song  appeared  to  transform  itself, 
and  to  bloom  into  a  garden  of  the  blessed.  Tears 
stood  in  Gabrielle's  eyes ;  and  Sintram,  as  he  gazed 
on  the  pearly  brightness,  poured  forth  tones  of  yet 
'icher  sweetness.  When  the  last  notes  were  sounded 
Gabrielle's  angelic  voice  was  heard  to  echo  them  ; 
and  as  she  repeated,  — 

"  Sing  heigh,  sing  ho,  for  that  land  of  flowers !  "  — 
Sintram  put  down  the  lute,  and  sighed  with  a  thank- 
ful glance  towards  the  stars,  now  rising  in  the 
heavens.  Then  Gabrielle,  turning  towards  her  lord, 
murmured  these  words :  "  Oh,  how  long  have  we 
been  far  away  from  our  own  shining  castles  and 
bright  gardens !  Oh,  for  that  land  of  the  sweetest 
flowers ! " 

Sintram  could  scarce  believe  that  he  heard  aright, 
BO  suddenly  did  he  feel  himself  as  if  shut  out  from 
paradise.  But  his  last  hope  vanished  before  the 
courteous  assurances  of  Folko,  that  he  would  en- 
deavor to  fulfill  his  lady's  wishes  the  very  next  week, 


312  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

and  that  their  ship  was  lying  off  the  shore  ready  to 
put  to  sea.  She  thanked  him  with  a  kiss  imprinted 
softly  on  his  forehead ;  and  leaning  on  his  arm,  she 
bent  her  steps,  singing  and  smiling,  towards  the 
castle. 

Sintram,  troubled  in  mind,  as  though  turned  into 
stone,  remained  behind  forgotten.  At  length,  when 
night  was  now  in  the  sky,  he  started  up  wildly,  ran 
up  and  down  the  garden,  as  if  all  his  former  mad- 
ness had  again  taken  possession  of  him  ;  and  then 
rushed  out  and  wandered  upon .  the  wild  moonlit 
hills.  There  he  dashed  his  sword  against  the  trees 
and  bushes,  so  that  on  all  sides  was  heard  a  sound 
of  crashing  and  falling.  The  birds  of  night  flew 
about  him  screeching  in  wild  alarm ;  and  the  deer, 
startled  by  the  noise,  sprang  away  and  took  refuge 
in  the  thickest  coverts. 

On  a  sudden  old  Rolf  appeared,  returning  home 
from  a  visit  to  the  chaplain  of  Drontheim,  to  whom 
he  had  been  relating,  with  tears  of  joy,  how  Sintram 
was  softened  by  the  presence  of  the  angel  Gabrielle, 
yea,  almost  healed,  and  how  he  dared  to  hope  chat 
the  evil  dreams  had  yielded.  And  now  the  sword, 
as  it  whizzed  round  the  furious  youth,  had  weii-nigh 
wounded  the  good  old  man.  He  stopped  short,  and 
clasping  his  hands,  he  said,  with  a  deep  sigh,  "  Alas, 
Sintram  !  my  foster-child,  darling  of  my  heart,  what 
has  come  over  thee,  thus  fearfully  stirring  thee  to 
rage  ?  " 

The    vouth   stood   awbUe   as  if  sp/ U-]>^und ';   }.e 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  313 

looked  in  his  old  friend's  face  with  a  fixed  and  mel- 
ancholy gaze,  and  his  eyes  became  dim,  like  expir- 
ing watch-fires  seen  through  a  thick  cloud  of  mist. 
At  length  he  sighed  forth  these  words,  almost  inau- 
dibly :  "  Good  Rolf,  good  Rolf,  depart  from  me ! 
thy  garden  of  heaven  is  no  home  for  me ;  and  if 
sometimes  a  light  breeze  blow  open  its  golden  gates, 
so  that  I  can  look  in  and  see  the  flowery  meadow- 
land  where  the  dear  angels  dwell,  then  straightway 
between  them  and  me  come  the  cold  north  wind  and 
the  icy  storm,  and  the  sounding  doors  fly  together, 
and  I  remain  without,  lonely,  in  endless  winter." 

"  Beloved  young  knight,  oh,  listen  to  me  —  listen 
to  the  good  angel  within  you !  Do  you  not  bear  in 
your  hand  that  very  sword  with  which  the  pure  lady 
girded  you  ?  Does  not  her  scarf  wave  over  your  rag- 
ing breast  ?  Do  you  not  recollect  how  you  used  to 
say,  that  no  man  could  wish  for  more  than  had  fallen 
to  you?" 

"Yes,  Rolf,  I  have  said  that,"  replied  Sintram, 
sinking  on  the  mossy  turf,  bitterly  weeping.  Tears 
also  ran  over  the  old  man's  white  beard.  Before 
long  the  youth  stood  again  erect,  his  tears  ceased  to 
flow,  his  looks  were  fearful,  cold,  and  grim  ;  and  he 
said,  "  You  see,  Rolf,  I  have  passed  blessed  peaceful 
days,  and  I  thought  that  the  powers  of  evil  would 
never  again  have  dominion  over  me.  So,  perchance, 
it  might  have  been,  as  day  would  ever  be  did  the 
Sun  ever  stand  in  the  sky  But  ask  the  poor  be- 
aighted  Earth,  wherefore  she  looks  so  dark !     Bid 


314  SINTRAM   AND  HIS   COMPANIONS. 

her  again  smile  as  she  was  wont  to  do !  Old  man, 
she  caimot  smile  ;  and  now  that  the  gentle  compas- 
sionate Moon  has  disappeared  behind  the  clouds  with 
her  holy  funeral  veil,  she  cannot  even  weep.  And 
In  this  hour  of  darkness,  all  that  is  wild  and  mad 
wakes  up.  So,  stop  me  not ;  I  tell  thee,  stop  me  not ! 
Hurrah,  behind,  behind  the  pale  Moon ! "  His 
voice  changed  to  a  hoarse  murmur  at  these  last 
words,  stormlike.  He  tore  away  from  the  trembling 
old  man,  and  rushed  through  the  forest.  Rolf  knelt 
down  and  prayed,  and  wept  silently. 


CHAPTER    XIL 

"Where  the  sea-beach  was  wildest,  and  the  cliffs 
most  steep  and  rugged,  and  close  by  the  remains  of 
three  shattered  oaks,  haply  marking  where,  in  hea- 
then times,  human  victims  had  been  sacrificed,  now 
stood  Sintram,  leaning,  as  if  exhausted,  on  his  drawn 
sword,  and  gazing  intently  on  the  dancing  waves. 
The  moon  had  again  shone  forth  ;  and  as  her  pale 
beams  fell  on  his  motionless  figure  through  the 
quivering  branches  of  the  trees,  he  might  have  been 
taken  for  some  fearful  idol-image.  Suddenly  some 
one  on  the  left  half  raised  himself  out  of  the  high 
withered  grass,  uttered  a  faint  groan,  and  again  lay 
down.  Then  between  the  two  companions  began 
this  strange  talk  :  — 

"  Thou  that  movest  thyself  so  •  strangely  in  the 
grass,  dost  thou  belong  to  the  living  or  to  the 
dead?" 

"  As  one  may  take  it.  I  am  dead  to  heaven  and 
joy :  I  live  for  hell  and  anguish." 

"  Methinks  that  I  have  heard  thee  before." 

"  Oh  yes." 

"Art  thou  a  troubled  spirit?  and  was  thy  life- 
blood  poured  out  here  of  old  in  sacrifice  to  idols  ?  " 


316  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

"  I  am  a  troubled  spirit ;  but  no  man  ever  has,  oif 
ever  can,  shed  my  blood.  I  have  been  cast  down  -— 
oh  into  a  frightful  abyss  ! " 

"  And  didst  thou  there  break  thy  neck  ?  " 

"  I  live,  —  and  shall  live  longer  than  thou." 

"  Almost  thou  seemest  to  me  the  crazy  pilgrim 
with  the  dead  men's  bones." 

"  I  am  not  he,  though  often  we  are  companions,  — 
ay,  walk  together  right  near  and  friendly.  But  to 
you  be  it  said,  he  thinks  me  mad.  If  sometimes  I 
urge  him,  and  say  to  him,  '  Take ! '  then  he  hesitates, 
and  points  upwards  towards  the  stars.  And  again, 
if  I  say,  '  Take  not ! '  then,  to  a  certainty,  he  seizes 
on  it  in  some  awkward  manner,  and  so  he  spoils  my 
best  joys  and  pleasures.  But,  in  spite  of  this,  we 
remain  in  some  measure  brothers-in-arms,  and  in- 
deed, all  but  kinsmen." 

"  Give  me  hold  of  thy  hand,  and  let  me  help  thee 
to  get  up." 

"  Ho,  ho !  my  active  young  sir,  that  might  bring 
you  no  good.  Yet,  in  fact,  you  have  already  helped 
to  raise  me.     Give  heed  awhile." 

Wilder  and  ever  wilder  were  the  strugglings  on 
the  ground  ;  thick  clouds  hurried  over  the  moon  and 
the  stars,  on  a  long  unknown  wild  journey ;  and  Sin- 
tram's  thoughts  grew  no  less  wild  and  stormy,  while 
far  and  near  an  awful  howling  could  be  heard  amidst 
the  trees  and  the  grass.  At  length  the  mysterious 
being  arose  from  the  ground.  As  if  with  a  fearful 
curiosity,  the    moon,  through   a  rent  m   the  clouds, 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  317 

cast  a  beam  upon  Sintram's  companion,  and  made 
clear  to  the  shuddering  youth  that  the  little  Master 
stood  by  him. 

"  Avaunt ! "  cried  he,  •'  I  will  listen  no  more  to 
thy  evil  stories  about  the  knight  Paris :  they  would 
end  by  driving  me  quite  mad." 

My  stories  about  Paris  are  not  needed  for  that ! " 
grinned  the  little  Master.  "  It  is  enough  that  the 
Helen  of  thy  heart  should  be  journeying  towards 
Montfaucon.  Believe  me,  madness  has  thee  already, 
head  and  heart.  Or  wouldest  thou  that  she  should 
remain?  For  that,  however,  thou  must  be  more 
courteous  to  me  than  thou  art  now." 

Therewith  he  raised  his  voice  towards  the  sea,  as 
if  fiercely  rebuking  it,  so  that  Sintrara  could  not  but 
shudder  and  tremble  before  the  dwarf  But  he 
checked  himself,  and,  grasping  his  sword-hilt  with 
both  hands,  he  said,  contemptuously :  "  Thou  and 
Gabrielle !  what  acquaintance  hast  thou  with  Ga- 
brielle?" 

"  Not  much,"  was  the  reply.  And  the  little  Mas- 
ter might  be  seen  to  quake  with  fear  and  rage  as  he 
continued :  "  I  cannot  well  bear  the  name  of  thy 
Helen ;  do  not  din  it  in  my  ears  ten  times  in  a 
breath.  But  if  the  tempest  should  increase  ?  If  the 
waves  should  swell,  and  roll  on  till  they  form  a  foam- 
\ng  ring  round  the  whole  coast  of  Norway  ?  The 
voyage  to  Montfaucon  must  in  that  case  be  alto- 
gether given  up,  and  thy  Helen  would  remain  here, 
at  least  through  the  long,  long,  dark  winter." 


318  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

"If!  if!"  replied  Sintram,  with  scorn.  "Is  the 
sea  thy  bond-slave  ?  Are  the  storms  thy  fellow- 
workmen  ?  " 

"  They  are  rebels,  accursed  rebels/'  muttered  the 
little  Master  in  his  red  beard.  "  Thou  must  lend  me 
thy  aid,  sir  knight,  if  I  am  to  subdue  them  ;  but  thou 
hast  not  the  heart  for  it." 

"  Boaster,  evil  boaster  !  "  answered  the  youth ; 
"  what  dost  thou  ask  of  me  ?  " 

"  Not  much,  sir  knight ;  nothing  at  all  for  one  who 
has  strength  and  ardor  of  soul.  Thou  needest  only 
look  at  the  sea  steadily  and  keenly  for  one  half  hour 
without  ever  ceasing  to  wish  with  all  thy  might  that 
it  should  foam  and  rage  and  swell,  and  never  again 
rest  till  winter  has  laid  its  icy  hold  upon  your  moun- 
tains. Then  winter  is  enough  to  hinder  Duke  Me- 
nelaus  from  his  voyage  to  Montfaucon.  And  now 
give  me  a  lock  of  your  black  hair,  which  is  blowing 
so  wildly  about  your  head,  like  ravens'  or  vultures' 
wings." 

The  youth  drew  his  sharp  dagger,  madly  cut  off  a 
lock  of  his  hair,  threw  it  to  the  strange  being,  and 
now  gazed,  as  he  desired,  powerfully  wishing,  on  the 
waves  of  the  sea.  And  softly,  quite  softly,  did  the 
waters  stir  themselves,  as  one  whispers  in  troubled 
dreams  who  would  gladly  rest  and  cannot.  Sintram 
was  on  the  point  of  giving  up,  when  in  the  moon- 
beams a  ship  appeared,  with  white-swelling  sails, 
towards  the  south.  Anguish  came  over  him,  that 
Gabrielle  would   soon   thus   quickly   sail   away,    he 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  319 

wished  again  with  all  his  power,  and  fixed  his  eyes 
intently  on  the  watery  abyss.  "  Sintram,"  a  voice 
might  have  said  to  him,  —  "  ah,  Sintram,  art  thou 
indeed  the  same  who  so  lately  wert  gazing  on  the 
moistened  heaven  of  the  eyes  of  Gabrielle  ?  " 

And  now  the  waves  heaved  more  mightily,  and  the 
howling  tempest  swept  over  the  ocean  ;  the  break- 
ers, white  with  foam,  became  visible  in  the  moon- 
light. Then  the  little  Master  threw  the  lock  of 
Sintram's  hair  up  towards  the  clouds,  and,  as  it  was 
blown  to  and  fro  by  the  blast  of  wind,  the  storm 
burst  in  all  its  fury,  so  that  sea  and  sky  were  cov- 
ered with  one  thick  cloud,  and  far  off  might  be  heard 
the  cries  of  distress  from  many  a  sinking  vessel. 

But  the  crazy  pilgrim  with  the  dead  men's  bones 
rose  up  in  the  midst  of  the  waves,  close  to  the  shore, 
gigantic,  tall,  fearfully  rocking  ;  the  boat  in  which  he 
stood  was  hidden  from  sight,  so  mightily  raged  the 
waves  round  about  it. 

"  Thou  must  save  him,  little  Master  —  thou  must 
certainly  save  him,"  cried  Sintram's  voice,  angrily 
entreating,  through  the  roaring  of  the  winds  and 
waves.  But  the  dwarf  replied,  with  a  laugh :  "  Be 
quite  at  rest  for  him  ;  he  will  be  able  to  save  him- 
self The  waves  can  do  him  no  harm.  Seest  thou  ? 
They  are  only  begging  of  him,  and  therefore  they 
jump  up  so  boldly  round  him ;  and  he  gives  them 
bountiful  alms  —  very  bountiful,  that  I  can  assure 
thee." 


320  SINTRAM  AND   HIS   COMPANIONS. 

In  fact,  as  it  seemed,  the  pilgrim  threw  some 
bones  into  the  sea,  and  passed  scatheless  on  his  way. 
Sintrani  felt  his  blood  run  cold  with  horror,  and  he 
rushed  wildly  towards  the  castle.  His  companion 
had  either  fled  or  vanished  away. 


CHAPTER  Xiri. 

In  the  castle,  Biorn  and  Gabrielle  and  Folko  of 
Montfaucon  were  sitting  round  the  great  stone  table 
from  which,  since  the  arrival  of  his  noble  guests, 
those  suits  of  armor  had  been  removed,  formerly  the 
established  companions  of  the  lord  of  the  castle,  and 
placed  altogether  in  a  heap  in  the  adjoining  room. 
At  this  time,  while  the  storm  was  beating  so  furiously 
against  doors  and  windows,  it  seemed  as  if  the  an- 
cient armor  were  also  stirring  in  the  next  room,  and 
Gabrielle  several  times  half  rose  from  her  seat  in 
great  alarm,  fixing  her  eyes  on  the  small  iron  door, 
as  though  she  expected  to  see  an  armed  spectre 
issue  therefrom,  bending  with  his  mighty  helmet 
through  the  low  vaulted  doorway. 

The  knight  Biorn  smiled  grimly,  and  said,  as  if  he 
had  guessed  her  thoughts :  "  Oh,  he  will  never  again 
come  out  thence ;  I  have  put  an  end  to  that  for- 
ever." 

His  guests  stared  at  him  doubtingly ;  and  with  a 
strange  air  of  unconcern,  as  though  the  storm  had 
awakened  all  the  fierceness  of  his  soul,  he  began  the 
following  history : 

"I  was  once  a  happy  man  myself;  I  could  smile, 
as  you  do,  and  I  could  rejoice  in  the  morning  as  you 
21 


322  SINTRAM  AND  HIS   COMPANIONS. 

do  ;  that  was  before  the  hypocritical  chaplain  had  so 
bewildered  the  wise  mind  of  my  lovely  wife  with  his 
canting  talk,  that  she  went  into  a  cloister,  and  left 
me  alone  with  our  wild  boy.  That  was  not  fair 
usage  from  the  fair  Yerena.  Well,  so  it  was,  that 
in  the  first  days  of  her  dawning  beauty,  before  I 
knew  her,  many  knights  sought  her  hand,  amongst 
whom  was  Sir  Weigand  the  Slender ;  and  towards 
him  the  gentle  maiden  showed  herself  the  most 
favorably  inclined.  Her  parents  were  well  aware 
that  Weigand's  rank  and  station  were  little  below 
their  own,  and  that  his  early  fame  as  a  warrior  with- 
out reproach  stood  high  ;  so  that  before  long  Verena 
and  he  were  accounted  as  affianced.  It  happened  one 
day  that  they  were  walking  together  in  the  orchard, 
when  a  shepherd  was  driving  his  flock  up  the  moun- 
tain beyond.  The  maiden  saw  a  little  snow-white 
lamb  frolicking  gayly,  and  longed  for  it.  Weigand 
vaults  over  the  railings,  overtakes  the  shepherd,  and 
offers  him  two  gold  bracelets  for  the  lamb.  But  the 
shepherd  will  not  part  with  it,  and  scarcely  listens  to 
the  knight,  going  quietly  the  while  up  the  mountain- 
side, with  Weigand  close  upon  him.  At  last  Wei- 
gand loses  patience.  He  threatens ;  and  the  shep- 
herd, sturdy  and  proud  like  all  of  his  race  in  our 
northern  land,  threatens  in  return.  Suddenly  Wei- 
gand's sword  resounds  upon  his  head,  —  the  stroke 
should  have  fallen  flat,  but  who  can  control  a  fiery 
horse  or  a  drawn  sword  ?  The  bleeding  shepherd, 
with  a  cloven   skull,  falls  down    the    precipice ;    his 


SINTRAM  AND   HIS   COMPANIONS.  323 

frightened  flock  bleats  on  the  mountain.  Only  the 
little  lamb  runs  in  its  terror  to  the  orchard,  pushes 
itself  through  the  garden-rails,  and  lies  at  Verena's 
feet,  as  if  asking  for  help,  all  red  with  his  master's 
blood.  She  took  it  up  in  her  arms,  and  from  that 
moment  never  suffered  Weigand  the  Slender  to  ap- 
pear again  before  her  face.  She  continued  to  cher- 
ish the  little  lamb,  and  seemed  to  take  pleasure  in 
nothing  else  in  the  world,  and  became  pale  and 
turned  towards  heaven,  as  the  lilies  are.  She  would 
soon  have  taken  the  veil,  but  just  then  I  came  to  aid 
her  father  in  a  bloody  war,  and  rescued  him  from 
his  enemies.  The  old  man  represented  this  to  her, 
and  softly  smiling,  she  gave  me  her  lovely  hand. 
His  grief  would  not  suffer  the  unhappy  Weigand 
to  remain  in  his  own  tountry.  It  drove  him  forth  as 
a  pilgrim  to  Asia,  whence  our  forefathers  came,  and 
there  he  did  wonderful  deeds,  both  of  valor  and  self- 
abasement.  Truly,  my  heart  was  strangely  weak 
when  I  heard  him  spoken  of  at  that  time.  After 
some  years  he  returned,  and  wished  to  build  a 
church  or  monastery  on  that  mountain  towards  the 
west,  whence  the  walls  of  my  castle  are  distinctly 
Been.  It  was  said  that  he  wished  to  become  a  priest 
there,  but  it  fell  out  otherwise.  For  some  pirates 
had  sailed  from  the  southern  seas,  and,  hearing  of 
the  building  of  this  monastery,  their  chief  thought 
to  find  much  gold  belonging  to  the  lord  of  the  castle 
ftnd  to  the  master  builders,  or  else,  if  he  surprised 
and  carried  them  off,  to  extort  from  them  a  mighty 


324  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANION'S. 

ransom.  He  did  not  yet  know  northern  courage 
and  northern  weapons ;  but  he  soon  gained  that 
knowledge.  Having  landed  in  the  creek  under  the 
black  rocks,  he  made  his  way  through  a  by-path  up 
to  the  building,  surrounded  it,  and  thought  in  him- 
self that  the  affair  was  now  ended.  Ha !  then  out 
rushed  Weigand  and  his  builders,  and  fell  upon 
them  with  swords  and  hatchets  and  hammers.  The 
heathens  fled  away  to  their  ships,  with  Weigand 
behind  to  take  vengeance  on  them.  In  passing  by 
our  castle  he  caught  a  sight  of  Verena  on  the  ter- 
race, and,  for  the  first  time  during  so  many  years, 
she  bestowed  a  courteous  and  kind  salutation  on  the 
glowing  victor.  At  that  moment  a  dagger,  hurled 
by  one  of  the  pirates  in  the  midst  of  his  hasty  flight, 
struck  Weigand's  uncovered  Head,  and  he  fell  to 
the  ground  bleeding  and  insensible.  We  completed 
the  rout  of  the  heathens ;  then  I  had  the  wounded 
knight  brought  into  the  castle ;  and  my  pale  Verena 
glowed  as  lilies  in  the  light  of  the  morning  sun,  and 
Weigand  opened  his  eyes  with  a  smile  when  he  was 
brought  near  her.  He  refused  to  be  taken  into  any 
room  but  the  small  one  close  to  this  where  the  armor 
is  now  placed  ;  for  he  said  that  he  felt  as  if  it  were 
a  cell  like  that  which  he  hoped  soon  to  inhabit  in 
his  quiet  cloister.  All  was  done  after  his  wish  :  my 
sweet  Verena  nursed  him,  and  he  appeared  at  first 
to  be  on  the  straightest  road  to  recovery ;  but  his 
head  continued  weak  and  liable  to  be  confused  by 
the  slightest  emotion  ;   his  walk  was  rather  a  falling 


blNTRAM  AND   HIS   COMPANIONS.  325 

than  a  walking,  and  his  cheeks  were  colorless.  We 
could  not  let  him  go.  When  we  were  sitting  here 
together  in  the  evening,  he  used  always  to  come  tot- 
tering into  the  hall  through  the  low  doorway  ;  and 
my  heart  was  sad  and  wrathful  too,  when  the  soft 
eyes  of  Verena  beamed  so  sweetly  on  him,  and  a  glow 
like  that  of  the  evening  sky  hovered  over  her  lily 
cheeks.  But  I  bore  it,  and  I  could  have  borne  it  to 
the  end  of  our  lives,  —  when,  alas !  Verena  went  into 
a  cloister ! " 

His  head  fell  so  heavily  on  his  folded  hands,  that 
the  stone  table  seemed  to  groan  beneath  it,  and  he 
remained  a  long  while  motionless  as  a  corpse.  When 
he  again  raised  himself  up,  his  eyes  glared  fearfully 
as  he  looked  round  the  hall,  and  he  said  to  Folko : 
"  Your  beloved  Hamburghers,  Gotthard  Lentz,  and 
Rudlieb  his  son,  they  have  much  to  answer  for ! 
Who  bid  them  come  and  be  shipwrecked  so  close  to 
my  castle  ?  " 

Folko  cast  a  piercing  look  on  him,  and  a  fearful 
inquiry  was  on  the  point  of  escaping  his  lips,  but 
another  look  at  the  trembling  Gabrielle  made  him 
silent,  at  least  for  the  present  moment,  and  the 
knight  Biorn  continued  his  narrative. 

"  Verena  was  with  her  nuns,  I  was  left  alone, 
and  my  despair  had  driven  me  throughout  the  day 
through  forest  and  brake  and  mountain.  In  the 
^wilight  I  returned  to  my  deserted  castle,  and 
scarcely  was  I  in  the  hall,  when  the  little  door 
:;reaked,  and  Weigand,  who  had   slept  through  all. 


326  SINTRAM   AND   HIS   COMPANIONS. 

crept  towards  me  and  asked ;  '  Where  can  Verena 
be  ? '  Then  I  became  as  mad,  and  howled  to  him* 
'  She  is  gone  mad,  and  so  am  I,  and  you  also,  and 
now  we  are  all  mad ! '  Merciful  Heaven,  the  wound  on 
his  head  burst  open,  and  a  dark  stream  flowed  over 
his  face  —  ah  !  how  different  from  the  redness  w'hen 
Verena  met  him  at  the  castle-gate ;  and  he  rushed 
forth,  raving  mad,  into  the  wilderness  without,  and 
ever  since  has  wandered  all  around  as  a  crazy  pil- 
grim." 

He  was  silent,  and  so  were  Folko  and  Gabrielle, 
all  three  pale  and  cold  like  images  of  the  dead.  At 
length  the  fearful  narrator  added  in  a  low  voice,  and 
as  if  he  were  quite  exhausted  :  "  He  has  visited  me 
since  that  time,  but  he  will  never  again  come  through 
the  little  door.  Have  I  not  established  peace  and 
order  in  my  castle  ?  " 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


SmTRAM  had  not  returned  home,  when  those  of 
the  castle  betook  themselves  to  rest  in  deep  bewil- 
derment. No  one  thought  of  him,  for  every  heart 
was  filled  with  strange  forebodings,  and  with  uncer- 
tain cares.  Even  the  heroic  breast  of  the  knight  of 
Montfaucon  heaved  in  doubt. 

Old  Rolf  still  remained  without,  weeping  in  the 
forest,  heedless  of  the  storm  which  beat  on  his 
unprotected  head,  while  he  waited  for  his  young 
master.  But  he  had  gone  a  very  different  way  ;  and 
when  the  morning  dawned,  he  entered  the  castle 
from  the  opposite  side. 

Gabrielle's  slumbers  had  been  sweet  during  the 
whole  night.  It  had  seemed  to  her  that  angels  with 
golden  wings  had  blown  away  the  wild  histories  of 
the  evening  before,  and  had  wafted  to  her  the  bright 
flowers,  the  sparkling  sea,  and  the  green  hills  of  her 
own  home.  She  smiled,  and  drew  her  breath  calmly 
and  softly,  whilst  the  magical  tempest  raged  and 
howled  through  the  forests,  and  continued  to  battle 
with  the  troubled  sea.  But  in  truth  when  she  awoke 
'.n  the  morning,  and  heard  still  the  rattling  of  the 
n^indows,  and  saw  the  clouds,  as  if  dissolved  in  mist 


328  SINTRAM  AND   HIS   COMPANIONS. 

and  steam,  still  hiding  the  face  of  the  heavens,  she 
could  have  wept  for  anxiety  and  sadness,  especially 
when  she  heard  from  her  maidens  that  Folko  had 
already  left  their  apartment  clad  in  full  armor  as  if 
prepared  for  a  combat.  At  the  same  time  she  heard 
the  sound  of  the  heavy  tread  of  armed  men  in  the 
echoing  halls,  and,  on  inquiring,  found  that  the 
knight  of  Montfaucon  had  assembled  all  his  retain- 
ers to  be  in  readiness  to  protect  their  lady. 

Wrapped  in  a  cloak  of  ermine,  she  stood  trem- 
bling like  a  tender  flower  just  sprung  up  out  of  the 
snow,  tottering  beneath  a  winter's  storm.  Then  Sir 
Folko  entered  the  room,  in  all  his  shining  armor,  and 
peacefully  carrying  his  golden  helmet  with  the  long 
shadowy  plumes  in  his  hand.  He  saluted  Gabrielle 
with  cheerful  serenity,  and  at  a  sign  from  him,  her 
attendants  retired,  while  the  men-at-arms  without 
were  heard  quietly  dispersing. 

"  Lady,"  said  he,  as  he  took  his  seat  beside  her,  on 
a  couch  to  which  he  led  her,  already  reassured  by 
his  presence,  —  "  lady,  will  you  forgive  your  knight 
for  having  left  you  to  endure  some  moments  of 
anxiety;  but  honor  and  stern  justice  called  him. 
Now  all  is  set  in  order,  quietly  and  peacefully  ;  dis- 
miss your  fears  and  every  thought  that  has  troubled 
you,  as  things  which  are  no  more." 

"  But  you  and  Biorn  ?  "  asked  Gabrielle. 

"  On  the  word  of  a  knight,"  replied  he,  "  all  is  well 
there."  And  thereupon  he  began  to  talk  over  indif- 
ferent subjects  with  his  usual  ease  and  wit ;  but  Ga- 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  329 

brielle,  bending  towards  him,  said  with  deep  emo- 
tion, — 

"  O  Folko,  my  knight,  the  flower  of  my  life,  my 
protector  and  my  dearest  hope  on  earth,  tell  me  all, 
if  thou  mayst.  But  if  a  promise  binds  thee,  it  is 
different.  Thou  knowest  that  I  am  of  the  race  of 
Portamour,  and  I  would  ask  nothing  from  my  knight 
which  could  cast  even  a  breath  of  suspicion  on  his 
spotless  shield." 

Folko  thought  gravely  for  one  instant ;  then  look- 
ing at  her  with  a  bright  smile,  he  said  :  "  It  is  not 
that,  Gabrielle  ;  but  canst  thou  bear  what  I  have  to 
disclose  ?  Wilt  thou  not  sink  down  under  it,  as  a 
slender  fir  gives  way  under  a  mass  of  snow  ?  " 

She  raised  herself  somewhat  proudly,  and  said: 
"I  have  already  reminded  thee  of  the  name  of  my 
father's  house.  Let  me  now  add,  that  I  am  the 
wedded  wife  of  the  Baron  of  Montfaucon." 

"  Then  so  let  it  be,"  replied  Folko  solemnly  ;  "  and 
if  that  must  come  forth  openly  which  should  ever 
have  remained  hidden  in  the  darkness  which  belongs 
to  such  deeds  of  wickedness,  at  least  let  it  come 
forth  less  fearfully  with  a  sudden  flash.  Know  then, 
Gabrielle,  that  the  wicked  knight  who  would  have 
slain  my  friends  Gotthard  and  Rudlieb  is  none  other 
than  our  kinsman  and  host,  Biorn  of  the  Fiery 
Eyes." 

Gabrielle  shuddered  and  covered  her  eyes  with 
ner  fair  hands;  but  at  the  end  of  a  moment  she 
looked  up  with  a  bewildered  aii,  and  said  :   "  I  have 


330  SINTRAM  AND   HIS   COMPANIONS. 

heard  wrong  surely,  although  it  is  true  that  yesterday 
evening  such  a  thought  struck  me.  For  did  not  you 
say  awhile  ago  that  all  was  settled  and  at  peace  be- 
tween you  and  Biorn  ?  Between  the  brave  baron 
and  such  a  man  after  such  a  crime  ?  " 

"  You  heard  aright,"  answered  Folko,  looking  with 
fond  delight  on  the  delicate  yet  high-minded  lady. 
"  This  morning  with  the  earliest  dawn  I  went  to  him 
and  challenged  him  to  a  mortal  combat  in  the  neigh- 
boring valley,  if  he  were  the  man  whose  castle  had 
well-nigh  become  an  altar  of  sacrifice  to  Gotthard 
and  Rudlieb.  He  was  already  completely  armed, 
and  merely  saying,  *  I  am  he,'  he  followed  me  to  the 
forest.  But  when  we  stood  alone  at  the  place  of 
combat,  he  flung  away  his  shield  down  a  giddy  prec- 
ipice ;  then  his  sword  was  hurled  after  it ;  and  next 
with  gigantic  strength  he  tore  off  his  coat  of  mail, 
and  said,  '  Now  fall  on,  thou  minister  of  vengeance  ; 
for  I  am  a  heavy  sinner,  and  I  dare  not  fight  with 
thee.'  How  could  I  then  attack  him  ?  A  strange 
truce  was  agreed  on  between  us.  He  is  half  as  my 
vassal,  and  yet  I  solemnly  forgave  him  in  my  own 
name  and  in  that  of  my  friends.  He  was  contrite, 
and  yet  no  tear  was  in  his  eye,  no  gentle  word  on 
his  lips.  He  is  only  kept  under  by  the  power  with 
which  I  am  endued  by  having  right  on  my  side,  and 
it  is  on  that  tenure  that  Biorn  is  my  vassal.  I  know 
not,  lady,  whether  you  can  bear  to  see  us  together 
on  these  terms ;  if  not,  I  will  ask  for  hospitality  in 
some  other  castle ;  there  are  none  in  Norway  which 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  331 

would  not  receive  us  joyfully  and  honorably,  and 
this  wild  autumnal  storm  may  put  off  our  voyage  for 
many  a  day.  Only  this  I  think,  that  if  we  depart 
directly  and  in  such  a  manner,  the  heart  of  this  sav- 
age man  will  break." 

"  Where  my  noble  lord  remains,  there  I  also  re- 
main joyfully  under  his  protection,"  replied  Ga- 
brielle  ;  and  again  her  heart  glowed  with  rapture  at 
the  greatness  of  her  knight. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

The  noble  lady  had  just  unbuckled  her  knight's 
armor  with  her  own  fair  hands,  —  on  the  field  of 
battle  alone  were  pages  or  esquires  bidden  handle 
Montfaucon's  armor,  — and  now  she  was  throwing 
over  his  shoulders  his  mantle  of  blue  velvet  em- 
broidered with  gold,  when  the  door  opened  gently, 
and  Sintram  entered  the  room,  humbly  greeting 
them.  Gabrielle  received  him  kindly,  as  she  was 
wont,  but  suddenly  turning  pale,  she  looked  away 
and  said,  — 

"  O  Sintram,  what  has  happened  to  you  ?  And 
how  can  one  single  night  have  so  fearfully  altered 
you  ?  " 

Sintram  stood  still,  thunderstruck,  and  feeling  as 
if  he  himself  did  not  know  what  had  befallen  him. 
Then  Folko  took  him  by  the  hand,  led  him  towards 
a  bright  polished  shield,  and  said  very  earnestly, 
"  Look  here  at  yourself,  young  knight !  "  ' 

At  the  first  glance  Sintram  drew  back  horrified. 
He  fancied  that  he  saw  the  little  Master  before  him 
with  that  single  upright  feather  sticking  out  of  his 
cap  ;  but  he  at  length  perceived  that  the  mirror  was 
only  showing  him  his  own   image  and   none  other, 


SINfRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  333 

and  that  his  own  wild  dagger  had  given  him  this 
strange  and  spectre-like  aspect,  as  he  could  not  deny 
to  himself. 

"  Who  has  done  that  to  you  ?  "  asked  Folko,  yet 
more  grave  and  solemn.  "  And  what  terror  makes 
your  disordered  hair  stand  on  end  ?  " 

Sintram  knew  not  what  to  answer.  He  felt  as  if 
a  judgment  were  coming  on  him,  and  a  shameful 
degrading  from  his  knightly  rank.  Suddenly  Folko 
drew  him  away  from  the  shield,  and  taking  him  to- 
wards the  rattling  window,  he  asked :  "  Whence 
comes  this  tempest  ?  " 

Still  Sintram  kept  silence.  His  limbs  began  to 
tremble  under  him  ;  and  Gabrielle,  pale  and  ter- 
rified, whispered,  "  O  Folko,  my  knight,  what  has 
happened  ?  Oh,  tell  me  ;  are  we  come  into  an  en- 
chanted castle  ?  " 

"The  land  of  our  northern  ancestors,"  replied 
Folko  with  solemnity,  "  is  full  of  mysterious  knowl- 
edge. But  we  may  not,  for  all  that,  call  its  people 
enchanters ;  still  this  youth  has  cause  to  watch  him- 
self narrowly ;  he  whom  the  evil  one  has  touched  by 
so  much  as  one  hair  of  his  head  "  .  .  .  . 

Sintram  heard  no  more ;  with  a  deep  groan  he 
staggered  out  of  the  room.  As  he  left  it,  he  met 
old  Rolf,  still  almost  benumbed  by  the  cold  and 
storms  of  the  night.  Now,  in  his  joy  at  again  seeing 
his  young  master,  he  did  not  remark  his  altered  ap- 
pearance ;  but  as  he  accompanied  him  to  his  sleeping 
room  he  said,  "  Witches  and  spirits  of  the  tempest 


334  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

must  have  taken  up  their  abode  on  the  sea-shore. 
I  am  certain  that  such  wild  storms  never  arise  with- 
out some  devib'sh  arts." 

Sintram  fell  into  a  fainting-fit,  from  which  Eolf 
could  with  difficulty  recover  him  sufficiently  to  ap- 
pear in  the  great  hall  at  the  mid-day  hour.  But 
before  he  went  down,  he  caused  a  shield  to  be 
brought,  saw  himself  therein,  and  cut  close  round,  in 
grief  and  horror,  the  rest  of  his  long  black  hair,  so 
that  he  made  himself  look  almost  like  a  monk  ;  and 
thus  he  joined  the  others  already  assembled  round 
the  table.  They  all  looked  at  him  with  surprise; 
but  old  Biorn  rose  up  and  said  fiercely,  "  Are  you 
going  to  betake  yourself  to  a  cloister,  as  well  as  the 
fair  lady  your  mother  ?  " 

A  commanding  look  from  the  Baron  of  Montfau- 
con  checked  any  farther  outbreak  ;  and  as  if  in  apol- 
ogy, Biorn  added,  with  a  forced  smile,  "  I  was  only 
thinking  if  any  accident  had  befallen  him,  like  Ab- 
salom's, and  if  he  had  been  obliged  to  save  himself 
from  being  strangled  by  parting  with  all  his  hair." 

"  You  should  not  jest  with  holy  things,"  answered 
the  baron  severely,  and  all  were  silent.  No  sooner 
was  the  rep'ast  ended,  than  Folko  and  Gabrielle, 
with  a  grave  and  courteous  salutation,  retired  to  their 
Bpartments. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Life  in  the  castle  took  from  this  time  quite  an- 
other form.  Those  two  bright  beings,  Folko  and 
Gabrielle,  spent  most  part  of  the  day  in  their  apart- 
ments, and  when  they  showed  themselves,  it  was 
with  quiet  dignity  and  grave  silence,  while  Biorn  and 
Sintram  stood  before  them  in  humble  fear.  Never- 
theless, Biorn  could  not  bear  the  thought  of  his 
guests  seeking  shelter  in  any  other  knight's  abode. 
When  Folko  once  spoke  of  it,  something  like  a  tear 
stood  in  the  wild  man's  eye.  His  head  sank,  and  he 
said  softly,  "  As  you  please  ;  but  I  feel  that  if  you  go, 
I  shall  run  among  the  rocks  for  days."  , 

And  thus  they  all  remained  together ;  for  the 
storm  continued  to  rage  with  such  increasing  fury 
over  the  sea,  that  no  sea  voyage  could  be  thought  of, 
and  the  oldest  man  in  Norway  could  not  call  to  mind 
such  an  autumn.  The  priests  examined  all  the 
Kunic  books,  the  bards  looked  through  their  lays 
and  tales,  and  yet  they  could  find  no  record  of  the 
like.  Biorn  and  Sintram  braved  the  tempest ;  but 
during  the  few  hours  in  which  Folko  and  Gabrielle 
showed  themselves,  the  father  and  son  were  always 
in  the  castle,  as  if  respectfully  waiting  upon   them  ; 


336  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

the  rest  of  the  day  —  nay,  often  through  whole 
nights,  they  rushed  through  the  forests  and  over  the 
rocks  in  pursuit  of  bears.  Folko  the  while  called 
up  all  the  brightness  of  his  fancy,  all  his  courtly 
grace,  in  order  to  make  Gabrielle  forget  that  she 
was  living  in  this  wild  castle,  and  that  the  long,  hard 
northern  winter  was  setting  in,  which  would  ice  them 
in  for  many  a  month.  Sometimes  he  would  relate 
bright  tales  ;  then  he  would  play  the  liveliest  airs  to 
induce  Gabrielle  to  lead  a  dance  with  her  attendants  ; 
then,  again,  handing  his  lute  to  one  of  the  women, 
he  would  himself  take  a  part  in  the  dance,  well 
knowing  to  express  thereby  after  some  new  fashion 
his  devotion  to  his  lady.  Another  time  he  would 
have  the  spacious  halls  of  the  castle  prepared  for  his 
armed  retainers  to  go  through  their  warlike  exer- 
cises, and  Gabrielle  always  adjudged  the  reward  to 
the  conqueror.  Folko  often  joined  the  circle  of 
com]3atants ;  yet  so  that  he  only  met  their  attacks, 
defending  himself,  but  depriving  no  one  of  the  prize. 
The  Norwegians,  who  stood  around  as  spectators, 
used  to  compare  him  to  the  demigod  Baldur,  one  of 
the  heroes  of  their  old  traditions,  who  was  wont  to 
let  the  darts  of  his  companions  be  all  hurled  against 
him,  conscious  that  he  was  invulnerable,  and  of  his 
own  indwelling  strength. 

At  the  close  of  one  of  these  martial  exercises,  old 
Rolf  advanced  towards  Folko,  and  beckoning  him 
with  an  humble  look,  said  softly,  "  They  call  you  the 
beautiful,  mighty  Baldur,  —  and  they  are  right.     But 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS   COMPANIONS.  337 

even  the  beautiful,  mighty  Baldur  did  not  escape 
death.  Take  heed  to  yourself."  Folko  looked  at 
him  wondering.  "  Not  that  I  know  of  any  treach- 
ery," continued  the  old  man  ;  "  or  that  I  can  even 
foresee  the  likelihood  of  any.  God  keep  a  Norwe- 
gian from  such  a  fear.  But  when  you  stand  before 
me  in  all  the  brightness  of  your  glory,  the  fleeting- 
ness of  everything  earthly  weighs  down  my  mind, 
and  I  cannot  refrain  from  saying,  '  Take  heed,  noble 
baron  !  oh,  take  heed !  Even  the  most  beautiful 
glory  comes  to  an  end.' " 

"  Those  are  wise  and  pious  thoughts,"  replied 
Folko  calmly,  "  and  I  will  treasure  them  in  a  pure 
heart." 

The  good  Rolf  was  often  with  Folko  and  Gabri- 
elle,  and  made  a  connecting  link  between  the  two 
widely  differing  parties  in  the  castle.  For  how  could 
he  have  ever  forsaken  his  own  Sintram !  Only  in 
the  wild  hunting  expeditions  through  the  howling 
storms  and  tempests  he  no  longer  was  able  to  follow 
his  young  lord. 

At  length  the  icy  reign  of  winter  began  in  all  its 
glory.  On  this  account  a  return  to  Normandy  was 
impossible,  and  therefore  the  magical  storm  was 
lulled.  The  hills  and  valleys  shone  brilliantly  in 
their  white  attire  of  snow,  and  Folko  used  some- 
times, with  skates  on  his  feet,  to  draw  his  lady  in  a 
light  sledge  over  the  glittering  frozen  lakes  and 
streams.  On  the  other  hand,  the  bear-hunts  of  the 
22 


338  SINTRAM   AND   HIS   COMPANIONS. 

lord  of  the  castle  and  his  son  took  a  still  more  des- 
perate and  to  them  joyous  course. 

About,  this  time,  —  when  Christmas  was  drawing 
near,  and  Sintram  was  seeking  to  overpower  his 
dread  of  the  awful  dreams  by  the  most  daring  ex- 
peditions,—  about  this  time,  Folko  and  Gabrielle 
stood  together  on  one  of  the  terraces  of  the  castle. 
The  evening  was  mild;  the  snow-clad  fields  were 
glowing  in  the  red  light  of  the  setting  sun  ;  from 
below  there  were  heard  men's  voices  singing  songs 
of  ancient  heroic  times,  while  they  worked  in  the 
armorer's  forge.  At  last  the  songs  died  away,  the 
beating  of  hammers  ceased,  and,  without  the  speak- 
ers being  seen,  or  there  being  any  possibility  of 
distinguishing  them  by  their  voices,  the  following 
discourse  arose  :  — 

"  Who  is  the  bravest  amongst  all  those  whose  race 
derives  its  origin  from  our  renowned  land  ?  " 

''  It  is  Folko  of  Montfaucon." 

"  Rightly  said ;  but  tell  me,  is  there  anything  from 
which  even  this  bold  baron  draws  back  ?  " 

"  In  truth  there  is  one  thing,  —  and  we  who  have 
never  left  Norway  face  it  quite  willingly  and  joy- 
fully." 

"And  that  is  —  ?" 

"  A  bear-hunt  in  winter,  over  trackless  plains  of 
Bnow,  down  frightful  ice-covered  precipices." 

"  Truly  thou  answerest  aright,  my  comrade.  He 
who  knows  not  how  to  fasten  our  skates  on  his  feet, 
how  to  turn  in   them   to  the   rioht  or  left  at  a  mo- 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  339 

ment's  warning,  he  may  be  a  valiant  knight  in  other 
respects,  but  he  had  better  keep  away  from  our  hunt- 
ing parties,  and  remain  with  his  timid  wife  in  her 
apartments.'*  At  which  the  speakers  were  heard  to 
laugh  well  pleased,  and  then  to  betake  themselves 
again  to  their  armorers'  work. 

Folko  stood  long  buried  in  thought.  A  glow  be- 
yond that  of  the  evening  sky  reddened  his  cheek. 
Gabrielle  also  remained  silent,  considering  she  knew 
not  what.  At  last  she  took  courage,  and  embracing 
her  beloved,  she  said :  "  To-morrow  thou  wilt  go 
forth  to  hunt  the  bear,  wilt  thou  not?  and  thou  wilt 
bring  the  spoils  of  the  chase  to  thy  lady  ?  " 

The  knight  gave  a  joyful  sign  of  assent ;  and  the 
rest  of  the  evening  was  spent  in  dances  and  music 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

"  See,  my  noble  lord,"  said  Sintram  the  next 
morning,  when  Folko  had  expressed  his  wish  of 
going  out  with  him,  "  these  skates  of  ours  give  such 
wings  to  our  course,  that  we  go  down  the  mountain- 
side swiftly  as  the  wind ;  and  even  in  going  up  again 
we  are  too  quick  for  any  one  to  be  able  to  pursue  us, 
and  on  the  plains  no  horse  can  keep  up  with  us ;  and 
yet  they  can  only  be  worn  with  safety  by  those  wha 
are  well  practiced.  It  seems  as  though  some  strange 
spirit  dwelt  in  them,  which  is  fearfully  dangerous  to 
any  that  have  not  learnt  the  management  of  them  in 
their  childhood." 

Folko  answered  somewhat  proudly  :  "  Do  you  sup- 
pose that  this  is  the  first  time  that  I  have  been 
amongst  your  mountains  ?  Years  ago  I  have  joined 
in  this  sport,  and,  thank  Heaven,  there  is  no  knightly 
exercise  which  does  not  speedily  become  familiar  to 
me." 

Sintram  did  not  venture  to  make  any  further  ob- 
jections, and  still  less  did  old  Biorn.  They  both 
felt  relieved  when  they  saw  with  what  skill  and  ease 
Folko  buckled  the  skates  on  his  feet,  without  suffer- 
ing any  one  to  assist  him.  This  day  they  hunted  up 
the   mountain  in  pursuit  of  a  fierce  bear  which  had 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS   COMPANIONS.  ?A1 

ciften  before  escaped  from  them.  Before  long  it  was 
necessary  that  they  should  separate,  and  Sintram 
offered  himself  as  companion  to  Folko,  who,  touched 
by  the  humble  manner  of  the  youth,  and  his  devo- 
tion to  him,  forgot  all  that  had  latterly  seemed  mys- 
terious in  the  pale  altered  being  before  him,  and 
agreed  heartily.  As  now  they  continued  to  climb 
higher  and  higher  up  the  mountain,  and  saw  from 
many  a  giddy  height  the  rocks  and  crags  below  them 
looking  like  a  vast  expanse  of  sea  suddenly  turned 
into  ice  whilst  tossed  by  a  violent  tempest,  the  no- 
ble Montfaucon  drew  Jbis  breath  more  freely.  He 
poured  forth  war-songs  and  love-songs  in  the  clear 
mountain  air,  and  the  startled  echoes  repeated  from 
rock  to  rock  the  lays  of  his  Prankish  home.  He 
sprang  lightly  from  one  precipice  to  another,  using 
strongly  and  safely  his  staff  for  support,  and  turning 
now  to  the  right,  now  to  the  left,  as  the  fancy  seized 
him ;  so  that  Sintram  was  fain  to  exchange  his  former 
anxiety  for  a  wondering  admiration,  and  the  hunters, 
whose  eyes  had  never  been  taken  off  the  baron, 
burst  forth  with  loud  applause,  proclaiming  far  and 
wide  the  fresh  glory  of  their  guest. 

The  good  fortune  which  usually  accompanied  Fol- 
ko's  deeds  of  arms  seemed  still  unwilling  to  leave 
him.  After  a  short  search,  he  and  Sintram  found 
distinct  traces  of  the  savage  animal,  and  with  beating 
hearts  they  followed  the  track  so  swiftly,  that  even 
a  winged  enemy  would  have  been  unable  to  escape 
from   them.     But   the  creature  whom   they  sought 


342  SINTRAM  AND  HIS   COMPANIONS. 

did  not  attempt  a  flight ;  he  lay  sulkily  in  a  cavern 
near  the  top  of  a  steep  precipitous  rock,  infuriated  by 
the  shouts  of  the  hunters,  and  only  waiting  in  his 
lazy  fury  for  some  one  to  be  bold  enough  to  climb 
up  to  his  retreat,  that  he  might  tear  him  to  pieces. 
Folko  and  Sintram  had  now  reached  the  foot  of  this 
rock,  the  rest  of  the  hunters  being  dispersed  over 
the  far-extending  plain.  The  track  led  the  two 
companions  up  the  rock,  and  they  set  about  climb- 
ing on  the  opposite  sides  of  it,  that  they  might  be 
the  more  sure  of  not  missing  their  prey.  Folko 
reached  the  lonely  topmost  point  first,  and  cast  his 
eyes  around.  A  wide,  boundless  tract  of  country, 
covered  with  untrodden  snow,  was  spread  before 
him,  melting  in  the  distance  into  the  lowering  clouds 
of  the  gloomy  evening  sky.  He  almost  thought  that 
he  must  have  missed  the  traces  of  the  fearful  beast ; 
when  close  beside  him  from  a  cleft  in  the  rock  is- 
sued a  long  growl,  and  a  huge  black  bear  appeared 
on  the  snow,  standing  on  its  hind  legs,  and  with 
glaring  eyes  it  ^advanced  towards  the  baron.  Sin- 
tram  the  while  was  struggling  in  vain  to  make  his 
way  up  the  rock  against  the  masses  of  snow  contin- 
ually slipping  down. 

Joyful  at  a  combat  so  long  untried  as  almost  to 
be  new,  Folko  of  Montfaucon  leveled  his  hunting 
spear,  and  awaited  the  attack  of  the  wild  beast.  He 
suffered  it  to  approach  so  near  that  its  fearful  claws 
were  almost  upon  him  ;  then  he  made  a  thrust,  and 
the  spear-head  was  buried  deep  in  the  bear's  breast 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  343 

But  the  furious  beast  still  pressed  on  with  a  fierce 
growl,  kept  up  on  its  hind  legs  by  the  cross-iron  of 
the  spear,  and  the  knight  was  forced  to  plant  his  feet 
deep  in  the  earth  to  resist  the  savage  assault ;  and 
ever  close  before  him  the  grim  and  bloody  face  of 
the  bear,  and  close  in  his  ear  its  deep  savage  growl, 
wrung  forth  partly  by  the  agony  of  death,  partly  by 
thirst  for  blood.  At  length  the  bear's  resistance 
grew  weaker,  and  the  dark  blood  streamed  freely 
upon  the  snow ;  he  tottered,  and  one  powerful 
thrust  hurled  him  backwards  over  the  edge  of  the 
precipice.  At  the  same  instant,  Sintram  stood  by 
the  Baron  of  Montfaucon.  Folko  said,  drawing  a 
deep  breath :  "  But  I  have  not  yet  the  prize  in  my 
hands,  and  have  it  I  must,  since  fortune  has  given 
me  a  claim  to  it.  Look,  one  of  my  skates  seems  to 
be  out  of  order.  Thinkest  thou,  Sintram,  that  it 
holds  enough  to  slide  down  to  the  foot  of  the  preci- 
pice?" 

"  Let  me  go  instead,"  said  Sintram.  "  I  will  bring 
you  the  head  and  the  claws  of  the  bear." 

"  A  true  knight,"  replied  Folko  with  some  dis- 
pleasure, "  never  does  a  knightly  deed  by  halves. 
What  I  ask  is,  whether  my  skate  will  still  hold  ?  " 

As  Sintram  bent  down  to  look,  and  was  on  the 
point  of  saying,  "  No  !  "  he  suddenly  heard  a  voice 
close  to  him,  saying,  "  Why,  yes,  to  be  sure  ;  there 
is  no  doubt  about  it." 

Folko  thought  that  Sintram  had  spoken,  and  slid 
down  with  the  swiftness  of  an  arrow,  whilst  his  com- 


344  SINTRAM   AND   HIS   COMPANIONS. 

panion  looked  up  in  great  surprise.  The  hated  form 
of  the  little  Master  met  his  eyes.  As  he  was  going 
to  address  him  with  angry  words,  he  heard  the  sound 
of  the  baron's  fearful  fall,  and  he  stood  still  in  si- 
lent horror.  There  was  a  breathless  silence  also  in 
the  abyss  below. 

"  Now,  why  dost  thou  delay  ?  "  said  the  little  Mas* 
ter,  after  a  pause.  "  He  is  dashed  to  pieces.  Go  back 
to  the  castle,  and  take  the  fair  Helen  to  thyself  " 

Sintram  shuddered.  Then  his  hateful  companion 
began  to  praise  Gabrielle's  charms  in  so  glowing^ 
deceiving  words,  that  the  heart  of  the  youth  swelled 
with  emotions  he  had  never  before  known.  He  only 
thought  of  him  who  was  now  lying  at  the  foot  of  the 
rock  as  of  an  obstacle  removed  between  him  and 
heaven :  he  turned  towards  the  castle. 

But  a  cry  was  heard  below  :  "  Help  !  help  !  my 
comrade  !    I  am  yet  alive,  but  I  am  sorely  wounded.' 

Sintram's  will  was  changed,  and  he  called  to  the 
baron,  "  I  am  coming." 

But  the  little  Master  said,  "  Nothing  can  be  done 
to  help  Duke  Menelaus ;  and  the  fair  Helen  knows 
it  already.  She  is  only  waiting  for  Knight  Paris  to 
comfort  her."  And  with  detestable  craft  he  wove  in 
that  tale  with  what  was  actually  happening,  bringing 
in  the  most  highly  wrought  praises  of  the  lovely  Ga- 
brielle  ;  and  alas !  the  dazzled  youth  yielded  to  him, 
and  fled  !  Again  he  heard  far  off  the  baron's  voice 
calling  to  him,  "  Knight  Sintram,  Knight  Sintram, 
thou  on  whom  I  bestowed  the  holy  order,  haste  to 


SINTRAM   AND  HIS   COMPANIONS.  345 

nae  and  help  me  !  The  she-bear  and  her  whelps 
will  be  upon  me,  and  I  cannot  use  my  right  arm  ! 
Knight  Sintram,  Knight  Sintram,  haste  to  help  nie  !  " 

His  cries  were  overpowered  by  the  furious  speed 
with  which  the  two  were  carried  along  on  their 
skates,  and  by  the  evil  words  of  the  little  Master, 
'who  was  mocking  at  the  late  proud  bearing  of  Duke 
Menelaus  towards  the  poor  Sintram.  At  last  he 
shouted,  "  Good  luck  to  you,  she-bear  !  good  luck  to 
your  whelps !  There  is  a  glorious  meal  for  you !  Now 
you  will  feed  upon  the  fear  of  Heathendom,  him  at 
whose  name  the  Moorish  brides  weep,  the  mighty  Ba- 
ron of  Montfaucon.  Never  again,  O  dainty  knight, 
will  you  shout  at  the  head  of  your  troops,  '  Mountjoy 
St.  Denys  ! '  "  But  scarce  had  this  holy  name  passed 
the  lips  of  the  little  Master,  than  he  set  up  a  howl  of 
anguish,  writhing  himself  with  horrible  contortions, 
and  wringing  his  hands,  and  ended  by  disappearing 
in  a  storm  of  snow  which  then  arose. 

Sintram  planted  his  staff  firmly  in  the  ground,  and 
stopped.  How  strangely  did  the  wide  expanse  of 
snow,  the  distant  mountains  rising  above  it,  and  the 
dark  green  fir-woods  —  how  strangely  did  they  all 
look  at  him  in  cold  reproachful  silence  !  He  felt  as 
if  he  must  sink  under  the  weight  of  his  sorrow  and 
his  guilt.  The  bell  of  a  distant  hermitage  came 
floating  sadly  over  the  plain.  With  a  burst  of  tears  he 
exclaimed,  as  the  darkness  grew  thicker  round  him, 
'  My  mother  !  my  mother!  I  had  once  a  belo\ed, 
tender  mother,  and  she  said  I  was  a  good  child  ! "   A 


346  SINTRAM   AND   HIS   COMPANIONS. 

ray  of  comfort  came  to  him  as  if  brought  on  an  an- 
gel's wing ;  perhaps  Montfaucon  was  not  yet  dead  ] 
and  he  ftew  Hke  lightning  along  the  path,  back  to 
the  steep  rock.  When  he  got  to  the  fearful  place, 
he  stooped  and  looked  anxiously  down  the  precipice. 
The  moon,  just  risen  in  full  majesty,  helped  him. 
The  knight  of  Montfaucon,  pale  and  bleeding,  was 
half  kneeling  against  the  rock ;  his  right  arm? 
crushed  in  his  fall,  hung  powerless  at  his  side  ;  it 
was  plain  that  he  could  not  draw  his  good  sword  out 
of  the  scabbard.  But  nevertheless  he  was  keeping 
the  bear  and  her  young  ones  at  bay  by  his  bold 
threatening  looks,  so  that  they  only  crept  round  him, 
growling  angrily ;  every  moment  ready  for  a  fierce 
attack,  but  as  often  driven  back  affrighted  at  the  ma- 
jestic air  by  which  he  conquered  even  when  defense 
less. 

"  Oh,  what  a  hero  would  there  have  perished ! " 
groaned  Sintram,  "  and  through  whose  guilt  ?  "  Tn 
an  instant  his  spear  flew  with  so  true  an  aim  that 
the  bear  fell  weltering  in  her  blood ;  the  young  ones 
ran  away  howling. 

The  baron  looked  up  with  surprise.  His  coun- 
tenance beamed  as  the  light  of  the  moon  fell  upon  it, 
grave  and  stern,  yet  mild,  like  some  angelic  vision. 
"  Come  down  ! "  he  beckoned  ;  and  Sintram  slid 
down  the  side  of  the  precipice,  full  of  anxious  haste. 
He  was  going  to  attend  to  the  wounded  man,  but 
Folko  said,  "  First  cut  off  the  head  and  claws  of  the 
bear  which  I  slew.     I  promised  to  bring  the  spoils 


SIN  TRAM   AND   HIS   COMPANIONS.  347 

of  the  chase  to  my  lovely  Gabrielle.  Then  come 
to  me,  and  bind  up  my  wounds.  My  right  arm  is 
broken."  Sintram  obeyed  the  baron's  commands. 
When  the  tokens  of  victory  had  been  secured,  and 
the  broken  arm  bound  up,  Folko  desired  the  youth 
to  help  him  back  to  the  castle. 

"  O  heavens ! "  said  Sintram  in  a  low  voice,  "  if 
I  dared  to  look  in  your  face !  or  only  knew  how  to 
come  near  you  !  " 

"Thou  wert  indeed  going  on  in  an  evil  course," 
said  Montfaucon  gravely  ;  "  but  how  could  we,  any 
of  us,  stand  before  God,  did  not  repentance  help  us ! 
At  any  rate,  thou  hast  now  saved  my  life,  and  let 
that  thought  cheer  thy  heart." 

The  youth  with  tenderness  and  strength  supported 
the  baron's  left  arm,  and  they  both  went  their  way 
silently  in  the  moonlight. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Sounds  of  wailing  were  heard  from  the  castle  as 
they  approached ;  the  chapel  was  solemnly  lighted 
up ;  within  it  knelt  Gabrieile,  lamenting  for  tho 
death  of  the  knight  of  Montfaucon. 

But  how  quickly  was  all  changed,  when  the  noble 
baron,  pale  indeed,  and  bleeding,  yet  having  escaped 
all  mortal  danger,  stood  smiling  at  the  entrance  of 
the  holy  building,  and  said,  in  a  low,  gentle  voice, 
"  Look  up,  Gabrieile,  and  be  not  affrighted ;  for,  by 
the  honor  of  my  race,  thy  knight  still  lives."  Oh  1  with 
what  joy  did  Gabrielle's  eyes  sparkle,  as  she  turned 
to  her  knight,  and  then  raised  them  again  to  heaven, 
still  streaming,  but  from  the  deep  source  of  thankful 
joy !  With  the  help  of  two  pages,  Folko  knelt  down 
beside  her,  and  they  .both  sanctified  their  happiness 
with  a  silent  prayer. 

When  they  lefl  the  chapel,  the  wounded  knight 
being  tenderly  supported  by  his  lady,  Sintram  was 
standing  without  in  the  darkness,  himself  as  gloomy 
as  the  night,  and,  like  a  bird  of  the  night,  shunning 
the  sight  of  men.  Yet  he  came  trembling  forward 
Into  the  torch-light,  laid  the  bear's  head  and  claws 
5t  the  feet  of  Gabrieile,  and  said,  "  The  noble  Folko 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  349 

of  Montfaucon  presents  the  spoils  of  to-day's  chase 
to  his  lady." 

The  Norwegians  burst  forth  with  shouts  of  joyful 
surprise  at  the  stranger  knight,  who  in  the  very  first 
hunting  expedition  had  slain  the  most  fearful  and 
dangerous  beast  of  their  mountains. 

Then  Folko  looked  around  with  a  smile  as  he  said, 
"  And  now  none  of  you  nnist  jeer  at  me,  if  I  stay 
at  home  for  a  short  time  with  my  timid  wife.  " 

Those  who  the  day  before  had  talked  together  in 
the  armorer's  forge,  came  out  from  the  crowd,  and 
bowing  low,  they  replied,  "  Noble  baron,  who  could 
have  thought  that  there  was  no  knightly  exercise  in 
the  whole  world  in  the  which  you  would  not  show 
yourself  far  above  all  other  men  ?  " 

"The  pupil  of  old  Sir  Hugh  may  be  somewhat 
trusted,"  answered  Folko,  kindly.  "  But  now,  you 
bold  northern  warriors,  bestow  some  praises  also  on 
my  deliverer  who  saved  me  from  the  claws  of  the 
she-bear,  when  I  was  leaning  against  the  rock 
wounded  by  my  fall." 

He  pointed  to  Sintram,  and  the  general  shout  was 
again  raised  ;  and  old  Rolf,  with  tears  of  joy  in  his 
eyes,  bent  his  head  over  his  foster-son's  hand.  But 
Sintram  drew  back  shuddering. 

"  Did  you  but  know,"  said  he,  "  whom  you  see 
before  you,  all  your  spears  would  be  aimed  at  my 
heart ;  and  perhaps  that  would  be  the  best  thing  for 
me.  But  I  spare  the  honor  of  my  father  and  of  his 
race,  and  for  this  time  I  will  not  confess.  Only  this 
much  must  you  know,  noble  warriors  "  — 


350  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

"  Young  man,"  interrupted  Folko  with  a  reproving 
look,  "already  again  so  wild  and  fierce?  I  desire 
that  thou  wilt  hold  thy  peace  about  thy  dreaming 
fancies." 

Sintram  was  silenced  for  a  moment ;  but  hardly 
had  Folko  begun  smilingly  to  move  towards  the 
steps  of  the  castle,  than  he  cried  out,  "  Oh,  no,  no, 
noble  wounded  knight,  stay  yet  awhile  ;  I  will  serve 
thee  in  everything  that  thy  heart  can  desire ;  but 
herein  I  cannot  serve  thee.  Brave  warriors,  you 
must  and  shall  know  so  much  as  this :  I  am  no 
longer  worthy  to  live  under  the  same  roof  with  the 
noble  Baron  of  Montfaucon  and  his  angelic  wife 
Gabrielle.  And  you,  my  aged  father,  good  night; 
long  not  for  me.  I  intend  to  live  in  the  stone  for- 
tress on  the  Rocks  of  the  Moon,  till  a  change  of 
some  kind  come  over  me. 

There  was  that  in  his  way  of  speaking  against 
which  no  one  dared  to  set  himself,  not  even  Folko. 

Th^  wild  Biorn  bowed  his  head  humbly,  and  said, 
"  Do  according  to  thy  pleasure,  my  poor  son  ;  for  I 
fear  that  thou  art  right." 

Then  vSintram  walked  solemnly  and  silently 
through  the  castle-gate,  followed  by  the  good  Rolf. 
Gabrielle  led  her  exhausted  lord  up  to  their  apart- 
ments. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

That  was  a  mournful  journey  on  which  the  youth 
and  his  aged  foster-father  went  towards  the  Rocks 
of  the  Moon,  through  the  wild  tangled  paths  of  the 
snow-clad  valleys.  Rolf  from  time  to  time  sang 
some  verses  of  hymns,  in  which  comfort  and  peace 
were  promised  to  the  penitent  sinner,  and  Sintram 
thanked  him  for  them  with  looks  of  grateful  sadness. 
Neither  of  them  spoke  a  word  else. 

At  length,  when  the  dawn  of  day  was  approaching, 
Sintram  broke  silence  by  saying,  '^  Who  are  those 
two  sitting  yonder  by  the  frozen  stream  —  a  tall 
man  and  a  little  one  ?  Their  own  wild  hearts  must 
have  driven  them  also  forth  into  the  wilderness. 
Rolf,  dost  thou  know  them  ?  The  sight  of  them 
makes  me  shudder." 

"  Sir,"  answered  the  old  man,  "  your  disturbed 
mind  deceives  you.  There  stands  a  lofty  fir-tree, 
and  the  old  weather-beaten  stump  of  an  oak,  half- 
covered  with  snow,  which  gives  them  a  somewhat 
strange  appearance.  There  are  no  men  sitting 
yonder." 

"  But  Rolf,  look  there !  look  again  carefully  !  Now 
they  move,  they  whisper  together." 


352  SINTRAM  AND   HIS   COMPANIONS. 

"  Sir,  the  morning  breeze  moves  the  branches,  and 
whistles  in  the  sharp  pine-leaves  and  in  the  yellow 
oak-leaves,  and  rustles  the  crisp  snow." 

"  Rolf,  now  they  are  both  coming  towards  us. 
Now  they  are  standing  before  us,  quite  close." 

"  Sir,  it  is  we  who  get  nearer  to  them  as  we  walk 
on,  and  the  setting  moon  throws  such  long  giant- 
like shadows  over  the  plain." 

"  Good  evening  ! "  said  a  hollow  voice  ;  and  Sin- 
tram  knew  it  was  the  crazy  pilgrim,  near  to  whom 
stood  the  malignant  little  Master,  looking  more  hid- 
eous than  ever. 

"  You  are  right,  sir  knight,"  whispered  Rolf,  as  he 
drew  back  'behind  Sintram,  and  made  the  sign  of 
the  cross  on  his  breast  and  his  forehead. 

The  bewildered  youth,  however,  advanced  towards 
the  two  figures,  and  said,  "  You  have  always  taken 
wonderful  pleasure  in  being  my  companions.  What 
do  you  expect  will  come  of  it  ?  And  do  you  choose 
to  go  now  with  me  to  the  stone  fortress  ?  There  I 
will  tend  thee,  poor  pale  pilgrim ;  and  as  to  thee, 
frightful  Master,  most  evil  dwarf,  I  will  make  thee 
shorter  by  the  head,  to  reward  thee  for  thy  deeds 
yesterday." 

"  That  would  be  a  fine  thing,"  sneered  the  little 
Master ;  "  and  perhaps  thou  imaginest  that  thou 
wouldst  be  doing  a  great  service  to  the  whole  world  ? 
And,  indeed,  who  knows  ?  Something  might  be 
gained  by  it !     Only,  poor  wretch,  thou  canst  not  do 

it" 


SINTRAM   AND   HIS  COMPANIONS.  353 

The  pilgrim  meantime  was  waving  his  pale  head 
to  and  fro  thoughtfully,  saying.  "I  believe  truly,  that 
thou  wouldst  willingly  have  me,  and  I  would  go  to 
thee  willingly,  but  I  may  not  yet.  Have  patience 
awhile ;  thou  wilt  yet  surely  see  me  come,  but  at  a 
distant  time ;  and  first  we  must  again  visit  thy  father 
together,  and  then  also  thou  wilt  learn  to  call  me  by 
my  right  name,  my  poor  friend." 

"  Beware  of  disappointing  me  again  ! "  said  the 
little  Master  to  the  pilgrim  in  a  threatening  voice  ; 
but  he,  pointing  with  his  long,  shriveled  hand  to- 
wards the  sun,  which  was  just  now  rising,  said, 
"  Stop  either  that  sun  or  me,  if  thou  canst ! " 

Then  the  first  rays  fell  on  the  snow,  and  little 
Master  ran,  muttering,  down  a  precipice ;  but  the 
pilgrim  walked  on  in  the  bright  beams,  calmly  and 
with  great  solemnity,  towards  a  neighboring  castle 
on  the  mountain.  It  was  not  long  before  its  chapel- 
bell  was  heard  tolling  for  the  dead. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,"  whispered  the  good  Rolf  to 
his  knight,  —  "  for  Heaven's  sake,  Sir  Sintram,  what 
kind  of  companions  have  you  here  ?  One  of  them 
cannot  bear  the  light  of  God's  blessed  sun,  and  the 
other  has  no  sooner  set  foot  in  a  dwelling  than  tid- 
ings of  death  wail  after  his  track.  Could  he  have 
been  a  murderer  ?  " 

"  1  do  not  think  that,"  said  Sintram.  "  He  seemed 
to  me  the  best  of  the  two.  But  it  is  a  strange  will- 
fulness of  his  not  to  come  with  me.  Did  I  not  in- 
vite him  kindly  ?  I  believe  that  he  can  sing  well, 
23 


354  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

and  he  should  have  sung  to  me  some  gently  killaby. 
Since  my  mother  has  lived  in  a  cloister,  no  one  sings 
lullabies  to  me  any  more." 

At  this  tender  recollection  his  eyes  vi^ere  bedewed 
with  tears.  But  he  did  not  himself  know  what  he 
had  said  besides,  for  there  was  wildness  and  con- 
fusion in  his  spirit.  They  arrived  at  the  Rocks  of 
the  Moon,  and  mounted  up  to  the  stone  fortress. 
The  castellan,  an  old,  gloomy  man,  the  more  devoted 
to  the  young  knight  from  his  dark  melancholy 
and  wild  deeds,  hastened  to  lower  the  draw-bridge. 
Greetings  were  exchanged  in  silence,  and  in  silence 
did  Sintram  enter,  and  those  joyless  gates  closed 
with  a  crash  behind  the  future  recluse. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

Yes  truly,  a  recluse,  or  at  least  something  like  it, 
did  poor  Sintram  now  become  !  For  towards  the 
time  of  the  approaching  Christmas  festival  his  fear- 
ful dreams  came  over  him,  and  seized  him  so 
fiercely,  that  all  the  esquires  and  servants  fled  with 
shrieks  out  of  the  castle,  and  would  never  venture 
back  again.  No  one  remained  with  him  except  Rolf 
and  the  old  castellan.  After  a  while,  indeed,  Sin- 
tram  became  calm,  but  he  went  about  looking  so 
pallid  and  still,  that  he  might  have  been  taken  for 
a  wandering  corpse.  No  comforting  of  the  good 
Rolf,  no  devout  soothing  lays,  were  of  any  avail ; 
and  the  castellan,  with  his  fierce,  scarred  features, 
his  head  almost  entirely  bald  from  a  huge  sword- 
cut,  his  stubborn  silence,  seemed  like  a  yet  darker 
shadow  of  the  miserable  knight.  Rolf  often  thought 
of  going  to  summon  the  holy  chaplain  of  Drontheim  ; 
but  how  could  he  have  left  his  lord  alone  with  the 
gloomy  castellan,  a  man  who  at  all  times  raised  in 
him  a  secret  horror  ?  Biorn  had  long  had  this  wild 
strange  warrior  in  his  service,  and  honored  him  on 
account  of  his  unshaken  fidelity  and  his  fearless 
courage,  though  neither  the  knight  nor  any  one  else 


366  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

knew  whence  the  castellan  came,  nor,  indeed,  exactly 
who  he  was.  Very  few  people  knew  by  what  name 
to  call  him ;  but  that  was  the  more  needless,  since 
he  never  entered  into  discourse  with  any  one.  He 
was  the  castellan  of  the  stone  fortress  on  the  Rocks 
of  the  Moon,  and  nothing  more. 

Rolf  committed  his  deep  heartfelt  cares  to  the 
merciful  God,  trusting  that  He  would  soon  come  to 
his  aid  ;  and  the  merciful  God  did  not  fail  him.  For 
on  Christmas  Eve  the  bell  at  the  draw-bridge  sound- 
ed, and  Rolf,  looking  over  the  battlements,  saw  the 
chaplain  of  Drontheim  standing  there,  with  a  com- 
panion, indeed,  that  surprised  him ;  for  close  be- 
side him  appeared  the  crazy  pilgrim,  and  the  dead 
men's  bones  on  his  dark  mantle  shone  very  strangely 
in  the  glimmering  starlight:  but  the  sight  of  the 
chaplain  filled  the  good  Rolf  too  full  of  joy  to  leave 
room  for  any  doubt  in  his  mind ;  for,  thought  he, 
whoever  comes  with  him  cannot  but  be  welcome! 
And  so  he  let  them  both  in  with  respectful  haste 
and  ushered  them  up  to  the  hall,  where  Sintram, 
pale  and  with  a  fixed  look,  was  sitting  under  the 
light  of  one  flickering  lamp.  Rolf  was  obliged  to 
support  and  assist  the  crazy  pilgrim  up  the  stairs,  for 
he  was  quite  benumbed  with  cold. 

"  I  bring '  you  a  greeting  from  your  mother,"  said 
the  chaplain  as  he  came  in ;  and  immediately  a 
sweet  smile  passed  over  the  young  knight's  (^ounte- 
nance,  and  its  deadly  pallidness  gave  place  to  a  bright 
soft  glow. 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  357 

"  O  Heaven ! "  murmured  he,  "  does  then  my 
mother  yet  live,  and  does  she  care  to  know  any- 
thing about  me  ?  " 

"  She  is  endowed  with  a  wonderful  presentiment  of 
the  future,"  replied  the  chaplain  ;  "  and  all  that  you 
ought  either  to  do  or  to  leave  undone  is  faithfully 
mirrored  in  various  ways  in  her  mind,  during  a  half- 
waking  trance.  Now  she  knows  of  your  deep  sor- 
row ;  and  she  sends  me,  the  father-confessor  of  her 
convent,  to  comfort  you,  but  at  the  same  time  to 
warn  you ;  for,  as  she  affirms,  and  as  I  am  also  in- 
clined to  think,  many  strange  and  heavy  trials  lie 
before  you." 

Sintram  bowed  himself  towards  the  chaplain  with 
his  arms  crossed  over  his  breast,  and  said,  with  a 
gentle  smile,  "  Much  have  I  been  favored  —  more,  a 
thousand  times  more,  than  I  could  have  dared  to 
hope  in  my  best  hours  —  by  this  greeting  from  my 
mother,  and  your  visit,  reverend  sir ;  and  all  after 
falling  more  fearfully  low  than  I  had  ever  fallen 
before.  The  mercy  of  the  Lord  is  great ;  and  how 
heavy  soever  may  be  the  weight  and  punishment 
which  he  may  send,  I  trust,  with  His  grace,  to  be 
able  to  bear  it." 

Just  then  the  door  opened,  and  the  castellan  came 
in  with  a  torch  in  his  hand,  the  red  glare  of  which 
made  his  face  look  the  color  of  blood.  He  cast  a 
terrified  glance  at  the  crazy  pilgrim,  who  had  just 
Bunk  back  in  a  swoon,  and  was  supported  on  his  seat 
and   tended  bv  Rolf;  then  he  stared  with  astonish- 


358  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

ment  at  the  chaplain,  and  at  last  murmured,  "A 
strange  meeting !  I  believe  that  the  hour  for  confes 
sion  and  reconciliation  is  now  arrived." 

"  I  believe  so  too,"  replied  the  priest,  who  had 
heard  his  low  whisper ;  "  this  seems  to  be  truly  a  day 
rich  in  grace  and  peace.  That  poor  man  yonder, 
whom  I  found  half  frozen  by  the  way,  would  make  a 
full  confession  to  me  at  once,  before  he  followed  me 
to  a  place  of  shelter.  Do  as  he  has  done,  my  dark- 
browed  warrior,  and  delay  not  your  good  purpose  for 
one  instant." 

Thereupon  he  left  the  room  with  the  willing  cas- 
tellan, but  he  turned  back  to  say,  "  Sir  Knight,  and 
your  esquire !  take  good  care  the  while  of  my  sick 
charge." 

Sintram  and  Rolf  did  according  to  the  chaplain's 
desire ;  and  when  at  length  their  cordials  made  the 
pilgrim  open  his  eyes  once  again,  the  young  knight 
said  to  him  with  a  friendly  smile,  '■  Seest  thou  ?  thou 
art  come  to  visit  me,  after  all.  Why  didst  thou  re- 
fuse me  when,  a  few  nights  ago,  I  asked  thee  so 
earnestly  to  come  ?  Perhaps  I  may  have  spoken 
wildly  and  hastily.*    Did  that  scare  thee  away  ?  " 

"  A  sudden  expression  of  fear  came  over  the  pil- 
grim's countenance ;  but  soon  he  again  looked  up  at 
Sintram  with  an  air  of  gentle  humility,  saying,  "  0 
my  dear,  dear  lord,  I  am  most  entirely  devoted  to 
you  —  only  never  speak  to  me  of  former  passages 
between  you  and  me.  I  am  terrified  whenever  you 
do  it.     For  my  lord,  either  I  am  mad  and  have  for- 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  359 

gotten  all  that  is  past,  or  that  Being  has  met  you  in 
the  wood,  whom  I  look  upon  as  my  very  powerful 
twill-brother." 

Sintram  laid  his  hand  gently  on  the  pilgrim's 
mouth,  as  he  answered,  "  Say  nothing  more  about 
that  matter :  I  most  willingly  promise  to  be  silent." 

Neither  he  nor  old  Rolf  could  understand  what 
appeared  to  them  so  awful  in  the  whole  matter  ;  but 
both  shuddered. 

After  a  short  pause,  the  pilgrim  said,  "  I  would 
rather  sing  you  a  song  —  a  sofl,  comforting  song. 
Have  you  not  a  lute  here  ?  " 

Rolf  fetched  one ;  and  the  pilgrim,  half-raising 
nimself  on  the  couch,  sang  the  following  words ;  — 

"  When  death  is  coming  near, 
When  thy  heart  shrinks  in  fear, 

And  thy  limbs  fail, 
Then  raise  thy  hands  and  pray 
To  Him  who  smooths  thy  way 

Through  the  dark  vale. 

"  Seest  thou  the  eastern  dawn, 
Hear'st  thou  in  the  red  mom 

The  angel's  song? 
Oh,  lift  thy  drooping  haad, 
Thou  who  in  gloom  and  dread 
Hast  lain  so  long. 

"  Death  comes  to  set  thee  free; 
Oh,  meet  him  cheerily 

As  thy  true  friend. 
And  all  thy  fears  shall  cease, 
And  in  eternal  peace 

Tliy  penance  end." 


B60  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

"Amen,"  said  Sintram  and  Rolf,  folding  their 
hands ;  and  whilst  the  last  chords  of  the  lute  stil^ 
resounded,  the  chaplain  and  the  castellan  came 
slowly  and  gently  into  the  room.  "  I  bring  a  pre- 
cious Christmas  gift,"  said  the  priest.  "  After  many 
sad  years,  hope  of  reconciliation  and  peace  of  con- 
science are  returning  to  a  noble,  disturbed  mind. 
This  concerns  thee,  beloved  pilgrim  ;  and  do  thou, 
my  Sintram,  with  a  joyful  trust  in  God,  take  encour- 
agement and  example  from  it." 

"  More  than  twenty  years  ago,"  began  the  castel- 
lan, at  a  sign  from  the  chaplain  — "  more  than 
twenty  years  ago  I  was  a  bold  shepherd,  driving  my 
flock  up  the  mountains.  A  young  knight  followed 
me,  whom  they  called  Weigand  the  Slender.  He 
wanted  to  buy  of  me  my  favorite  little  lamb  for  his 
fair  bride,  and  offered  me  much  red  gold  for  it.  ,1 
sturdily  refused.  Overbold  youth  boiled  up  in  us 
both.  A  stroke  of  his  sword  hurled  me  senseless 
down  the  precipice." 

"  Not  killed  ? "  asked  the  pilgrim  in  a  scarce  au- 
dible voice. 

"  I  am  no  ghost,"  replied  the  castellan,  somewhat 
morosely ;  and  then,  after  an  earnest  look  from  the 
priest,  he  continued,  more  humbly :  "  I  recovered 
slowly  and  in  solitude,  with  the  help  of  remedies 
which  were  easily  found  by  me,  a  shepherd,  in  our 
productive  valleys.  When  I  came  back  into  the 
world,  no  man  knew  me,  with  my  scarred  face,  and 
my  now  bald  head.     I  heard  a  report  going  through 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS    COMPANIONS.  361 

the  country,  that  on  account  of  this  deed  of  his,  Sir 
Weigand  the  Slender  had  been  rejected  by  his  fair 
betrothed  Verena,  and  how  he  had  pined  away,  and 
she  had  wished  to  retire  into  a  convent,  but  her 
father  had  persuaded  her  to  marry  the  great  knight 
Biorn.  Then  there  came  a  fearful  thirst  for  ven- 
geance into  my  heart,  and  I  disowned  my  name,  and 
my  kindred,  and  my  home,  and  entered  the  service 
of  the  mighty  Biorn,  as  a  strange  wild  man,  in  order 
that  Weigand  the  Slender  should  always  remain  a 
murderer,  and  that  I  might  feed  on  his  anguish.  So 
have  I  fed  upon  it  for  all  these  long  years ;  I  have 
fed  frightfully  upon  his  self-imposed  banishment, 
upon  his  cheerless  return  home,  upon  his  madness. 
But  to-day "  —  and  hot  tears  gushed  from  his  eyes 
— "  but  to-day  God  has  broken  the  hardness  of  my 
heart;  and,  dear  Sir  Weigand,  look  upon  yourself 
no  more  as  a  murderer,  and  say  that  you  will  forgive 
me,  and  pray  for  him  who  has  done  you  so  fearful  an 
injury,  and" — 

Sobs  choked  his  words.  He  fell  at  the  feet  of  the 
pilgrim,  who  with  tears  of  joy  pressed  him  to  hia 
heart,  in  token  of  forgiveness. 


^*iB 

Hi 

s 

ST^M. 

f\y-^^^^ 

^^^ 

^ 

Sw 

CHAPTER  XXI. 


The  joy  of  this  hour  passed  from  its  first  over- 
powering brightness  to  the  calm,  thoughtful  aspect 
of  daily  life ;  and  Weigand,  now  restored  to  health, 
laid  aside  the  mantle  with  dead  men's  bones,  saying : 
"  I  had  chosen  for  my  penance  to  carry  these  fearful 
remains  about  with  me,  with  the  thought  that  some 
of  them  might  have  belonged  to  him  whom  I  have 
murdered.  Therefore  I  sought  for  them  round 
about,  in  the  deep  beds  of  the  mountain-torrents,  and 
in  the  high  nests  of  the  eagles  and  vultures.  And 
while  I  was  searching,  I  sometimes  —  could  it  have 
been  only  an  illusion  ?  —  seemed  to  meet  a  being 
who  was  very  like  myself,  but  far,  far  more  powerful, 
and  yet  still  paler  and  more  haggard." 

An  imploring  look  from  Sintram  stopped  the 
flow  of  his  words.  With  a  gentle  smile,  Weigand 
bowed  towards  him,  and  said :  "  You  know  now  all 
the  deep,  unutterably  deep,  sorrow  which  preyed 
upon  me.  My  fear  of  you,  and  my  yearning  love 
for  you,  are  no  longer  an  enigma  to  your  kind  heart. 
For,  dear  youth,  though  you  may  be  like  your  fear- 
ful father,  you  have  also  the  kind,  gentle  heart  of 
your  mother;  and  its  reflection  brightens  your  pallid. 


SINTRAM    AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  863 

Btern  features,  like  the  glow  of  a  morning  sky,  which 
lights  up  ice-covered  mountains  and  snowy  valleys 
with  the  soft  radiance  of  joy.  But,  alas  !  how  long 
you  have  lived  alone  amidst  your  fellow-creatures ! 
And  how  long  since  you  have  seen  your  mother,  my 
dearly  loved  Sintram  !  " 

"  I  feel,  too,  as  though  a  spring  were  gushing  up 
in  the  barren  wilderness,"  replied  the  youth ;  "  and  I 
should  perchance  be  altogether  restored,  could  I  but 
keep  you  long  with  me,  and  weep  with  you,  dear 
lord.  But  I  have  that  within  me  which  says  that 
you  will  very  soon  be  taken  from  me." 

"  I  believe,  indeed,"  said  the  pilgrim,  "  that  my 
late  song  was  very  nearly  my  last,  and  that  it  con- 
tained a  prediction  full  soon  to  be  accomplished  in 
me.  But,  as  the  soul  of  man  is  always  like  the 
thirsty  ground,  the  more  blessings  God  has  bestowed 
on  us,  the  more  earnestly  do  we  look  out  for  new 
ones ;  so  would  1  crave  for  one  more  before,  as  I 
hope,  my  blessed  end.  Yet,  indeed,  it  cannot  be 
granted  me,"  added  he,  with  a  faltering  voice  ;  "  for 
I  feel  myself  too  utterly  unworthy  of  so  high  a  gift." 

"  But  it  will  be  granted ! "  said  the  chaplain,  joy- 
fully. " '  He  that  humbleth  himself  shall  be  exalted ;  * 
and  I  fear  not  to  take  one  purified  from  murder  to 
receive  a  farewell  from  the  holy  and  forgiving  coun- 
tenance of  Verena." 

The  pilgrim  stretched  both  his  hands  up  towards 
heaven,  and,  an  unspoken  thanksgiving  poured  from 
his  beaming  eyes,  and  brightened  the  smile  that 
played  on  his  lips. 


364  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

Sintram  looked  sorrowfully  on  the  ground,  ana 
sighed  gently  to  himself:  "Alas!  who  would  dare 
accompany  ?  " 

"  My  poor,  good  Sintram,"  said  the  chaplain,  in 
a  tone  of  the  softest  kindness,  "  I  understand  thee 
well ;  but  the  time  is  not  yet  come.  The  powers  of 
evil  will  again  raise  up  their  wrathful  heads  within 
thee,  and  Verena  must  check  both  her  own  and  thy 
longing  desires,  until  all  is  pure  in  thy  spirit  as  in 
hers.  Comfort  thyself  with  the  thought  that  God 
looks  mercifully  upon  thee,  and  that  the  joy  so  ear- 
nestly sought  for  will  come  —  if  not  here,  most  as- 
suredly beyond  the  grave." 

But  the  pilgrim,  as  though  awaking  out  of  a 
trance,  rose  mightily  from  his  seat,  and  said  :  "  Do 
you  please  to  come  forth  with  me,  reverend  chap- 
lain ?  Before  the  sun  appears  in  the  heavens,  we 
could  reach  the  convent  gates,  and  I  should  not  be 
far  from  heaven." 

In  vain  did  the  chaplain  and  Rolf  remind  him  of 
his  weakness :  he  smiled,  and  said  there  could  be  no 
words  about  it ;  and  he  girded  himself,  and  tuned 
the  lute  which  he  had  asked  leave  to  take  with  him. 
His  decided  manner  overcame  all  opposition,  almost 
without  words ;  and  the  chaplain  had  already  pre- 
pared himself  for  the  journey,  when  the  pilgrim 
looked  with  much  emotion  at  Sintram,  who,  oppressed 
with  a  strange  weariness,  had  sunk,  half  asleep,  on 
a  couch,  and  said :  "  Wait  a  moment.  I  know  that 
he  wants   me  to  give   him    a  soft    lullaby."      The 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  365 

pleased  smile  of  the  youth  seemed  to  say,  Yes ;  and 
the  pilgrim,  touching  the  strings  with  a  light  hand, 
sang  these  words  :  — 

"  Sleep  peacefully,  dear  boy : 

Thy  mother  sends  the  song 
That  whispers  round  thy  couch, 

To  lull  thee  all  night  long. 
In  silence  and  afar 

For  thee  she  ever  prays, 
And  longs  once  more  in  fondness 

Upon  thy  face  to  gaze. 

"  And  when  thy  waking  cometh. 

Then  in  thy  every  deed, 
In  all  that  may  betide  thee. 

Unto  her  words  gjye  heed. 
Oh,  listen  for  her  voice. 

If  it  be  yea  or  nay ; 
And  though  temptation  meet  thee. 

Thou  shalt  not  miss  the  way. 

*'  If  thou  canst  listen  rightly. 

And  nobly  onward  go, 
Then  pure  and  gentle  breezes. 

Around  thy  cheeks  shall  blow. 
Then  on  thy  peaceful  journey 

Her  blessing  thou  shalt  feel, 
And  though  from  thee  divided, 

Her  presence  o'er  thee  steal. 

**  O  safest,  sweetest  comfort ! 

O  blest  and  living  light ! 
That,  strong  in  Heaven's  power, 

All  terrors  puts  to  flight ! 
Rest  quietly,  sweet  child, 

And  may  the  gentle  numbers 


S66  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

Thy  mother  sends  to  thee 
Waft  peace  unto  thy  slumbers." 

iSintram  fell  into  a  deep  sleep,  smiling,  and  breath- 
ing softly  Rolf  and  the  castellan  remained  by  his 
bed,  whilst  the  two  travellers  pursued  their  way  in 
the  quiet  starlight. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

The  dawn  had  almost  appeared,  when  Rolf,  who 
had  been  asleep,  was  awakened  by  low  singing  ;  and 
as  he  looked  round,  he  perceived,  with  surprise,  that 
the  sounds  came  from  the  lips  of  the  castellan,  who 
said,  as  if  in  explanation,  "  So  does  Sir  Weigand 
sing  at  the  convent-gates,  and  they  are  kindly  opened 
to  him."  Upon  which,  old  Rolf  fell  asleep  again, 
uncertain  whether  what  had  passed  had  been  a 
dream  or  a  reality.  After  a  while  the  bright  sun- 
shine awoke  him  again ;  and  when  he  rose  up,  he 
saw  the  countenance  of  the  castellan  wonderfully 
illuminated  by  the  red  morning  rays ;  and  altogether 
those  features,  once  so  fearful,  were  shining  with  a 
soft,  nay  almost  child-like  mildness.  The  mysterious 
man  seemed  to  be  the  while  listening  to  the  motion- 
less air,  as  if  he  were  hearing  a  most  pleasant  dis- 
course or  lofty  music;  and  as  Rolf  was  about  to 
speak,  he  made  him  a  sign  of  entreaty  to  remain 
quiet,  and  continued  in  his  eager  listening  attitude. 

At  length  he  sank  slowly  and  contentedly  back  in 
his  seat,  whispering,  "  God  be  praised !  She  has 
granted  his  last  prayer  ;  he  will  be  laid  in  the  burial- 
ground  of  the  convent,  and  now  he  has  forgiven  me 


868  SINTRAM  AND   HIS   COMPANIONS. 

in  the  depths  of  his  heart.  I  can  assure  you  that  he 
finds  a  peaceful  end." 

Rolf  did  not  dare  ask  a  question,  or  awake  his 
lord ;  he  felt  as  if  one  already  departed  had  spoken 
to  him. 

The  castellan  long  remained  still,  always  smiling 
brightly.  At  last  he  raised  himself  a  little,  again 
listened,  and  said,  "  It  is  over.  The  sound  of  the 
bells  is  very  sweet.  We  have  overcome.  Oh,  how 
soft  and  easy  does  the  good  God  make  it  to  us ! " 
And  so  it  came  to  pass.  He  stretched  himself  back 
as  if  weary,  and  his  soul  was  freed  from  his  care- 
worn body. 

Rolf  now  gently  awoke  his  young  knight,  and 
pointed  to  the  smiling  dead.  And  Sintram  smiled 
too  ;  he  and  his  good  esquire  fell  on  their  knees,  and 
prayed  to  God  for  the  departed  spirit.  Then  they 
rose  up,  and  bore  the  cold  body  to  the  vaulted  hall, 
and  watched  by  it  with  holy  candles  until  the  return 
of  the  chaplain.  That  the  pilgrim  would  not  come 
back  again,  they  very  well  knew. 

Accordingly  towards  mid-day  the  chaplain  re- 
turned alone.  He  could  scarcely  do  more  than  con- 
firm what  was  already  known  to  them.  He  only 
added  a  comforting  and  hopeful  greeting  from  Sin- 
tram's  mother  to  her  son,  and  told  that  the  blissful 
Weigand  had  fallen  asleep  like  a  tired  child,  whilst 
Verena,  with  calm  tenderness,  held  a  crucifix  before 
him. 

"  And  in  eternal  peace  our  penance  end !  " 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS   COMPANIONS.  369 

sang  Sin  tram,  gently  to  himself;  and  they  prepared 
a  last  resting-place  for  the  now  so  peaceful  castellan, 
and  laid  him  therein  with  all  the  due  solemn  rites. 

The  chaplain  was  obliged  soon  afterwards  to  de- 
part ;  but  bidding  Sintram  farewell,  he  again  said 
kindly  to  him,  "  Thy  dear  mother  assuredly  knows 
how  gentle  and  calm  and  good  thou  art  now  1 " 

24 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

In  the  castle  of  Sir  Biorn  of  the  Fiery  Eyes, 
Christmas  Eve  had  not  passed  so  brightly  and  hap- 
pily ;  but  yet,  there  too  all  had  gone  visibly  accord- 
ing to  God's  will. 

Folko,  at  the  entreaty  of  the  lord  of  the  castle, 
had  allowed  Gabrielle  to  support  him  into  the  hall ; 
and  the  three  now  sat  at  the  round  stone  table, 
whereon  a  sumptuous  meal  was  laid.  On  either 
side  there  were  long  tables,  at  which  sat  the  retain- 
ers of  both  knights  in  full  armor,  according  to  the 
custom  of  the  north.  Torches  and  lamps  lighted 
the  lofty  hall  with  an  almost  dazzling  brightness. 

Midnight  had  now  begun  its  solemn  reign,  and 
Gabrielle  softly  reminded  her  wounded  knight  to 
withdraw.  Biorn  heard  her,  and  said :  "  You  are 
right,  fair  lady ;  our  knight  needs  rest.  Only  let  us 
first  keep  up  one  more  old  honorable  custom." 

And  at  his  sig^n  four  attendants  brouorht  in  with 
pomp  a  great  boar's  head,  which  looked  as  if  cut  out 
of  solid  gold,  and  placed  it  in  the  middle  of  the 
stone  table.  Biorn's  retainers  rose  with  reverence, 
and  took  off  their  helmets ;  Biorn  himself  did  the 
same. 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  871 

"  What  means  this  ?  "  asked  Folko  very  gravely. 

"  What  thy  forefathers  and  mine  have  done  on 
every  Yule  feast,"  answered  Biorn.  "  We  are  going 
to  make  vows  on  the  boar's  head,  and  then  pass  the 
goblet  round  to  their  fulfillment." 

"  We  no  longer  keep  what  our  ancestors  called 
the  Yule  feast,"  said  Folko ;  "  we  are  good  Chris- 
tians, and  we  keep  holy  Christmas-tide." 

"  To  do  the  one,  and  not  to  leave  the  other  un- 
done," answered  Biorn.  "  I  hold  my  ancestors  too 
dear  to  forget  their  knightly  customs.  Those  who 
think  otherwise  may  act  according  to  their  wisdom, 
but  that  shall  not  hinder  me.  I  swear  by  the  golden 
boar's  head  "  —  And  he  stretched  out  his  hand  to 
lay  it  solemnly  upon  it. 

But  Folko  called  out,  "  In  the  name  of  our  holy 
Saviour,  forbear.  Where  I  am,  and  still  have  breath 
and  will,  none  shall  celebrate  undisturbed  the  rites 
of  the  wild  heathens." 

Biorn  of  the  Fiery  Eyes  glared  angrily  at  him. 
The  men  of  the  two  barons  separated  from  each 
other,  with  a  hollow  sound  of  rattling  armor,  and 
ranged  themselves  in  two  bodies  on  either  side  of 
the  hall,  each  behind  its  leader.  Already  here  and 
there  helmets  were  fastened  and  visors  closed. 

"  Bethink  thee  yet  what  thou  art  doing,"  said 
Biorn.  "  I  was  about  to  vow  an  eternal  union  with 
the  house  of  Montfaucon,  nay,  even  to  bind  myself 
to  do  it  grateful  homage  ;  but  if  thou  disturb  me  in 
the  customs  which  have  come  to  me  from  my  fore* 


B72  SINTRAM   AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

fathers,  look  to  thy  safety  and  the  safety  of  all  that 
is  dear  to  thee.  My  wrath  no  longer  knows  any 
bounds." 

Folko  made  a  sign  to  the  pale  Gabrielle  to  retire 
behind  his  followers,  saying  to  her,  "  Be  of  good 
cheer,  my  noble  wife ;  weaker  Christians  have 
braved  for  the  sake  of  God  and  of  His  holy  Church, 
greater  dangers  than  now  seem  to  threaten  us.  Be- 
lieve me  the  Lord  of  Montfaucon  is  not  so  easily 
ensnared. 

Gabrielle  obeyed,  something  comforted  by  Folko's 
fearless  smile,  but  this  smile  inflamed  yet  more  the 
fury  of  Biorn.  He  again  stretched  out  his  hand 
towards  the  boar's  head,  as  if  about  to  make  some 
dreadful  vow,  when  Folko  snatched  a  gauntlet  of 
Biorn's  off  the  table,  with  which  he,  with  his  un- 
wounded  left  arm,  struck  so  powerful  a  blow  on  the 
gilt  idol,  that  it  fell  crashing  to  the  ground,  shivered 
to  pieces.  Biorn  and  his  followers  stood  as  if  turned 
to  stone.  But  soon  swords  were  grasped  by  armed 
hands,  shields  were  taken  down  from  the  walls,  and 
an  angry,  threatening  murmur  sounded  through  the 
hall. 

At  a  sign  from  Folko,  a  battle-axe  was  brought 
him  by  one  of  his  faithful  retainers ;  he  swung  it 
high  in  air  with  his  powerful  left  hand,  and  stood 
looking  like  an  avenging  angel  as  he  spoke  these 
words  through  the  tumult  with  awful  calmness: 
"What  seek  ye,  O  deluded  Northmen?  What 
wouldst  thou,  sinful  lord  ?     Ye  are  indeed  become 


SINTRAM   AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  373 

heathens ;  and  I  hope  to  show  you,  by  my  readiness 
for  battle,  that  it  is  not  in  my  right  arm  alone  that 
God  has  put  strength  for  victory.  But  if  ye  can 
yet  hear,  listen  to  my  words.  Biorn,  on  this  same 
accursed,  and  now,  by  God's  help,  shivered  boar's 
head,  thou  didst  lay  thy  hand  when  thou  didst  swear 
to  sacrifice  any  inhabitants  of  the  German  towns 
that  should  fall  into  thy  power.  And  Gotthard 
Lentz  came,  and  Rudlieb  came,  driven  on  these 
shores  by  the  storm.  What  didst  thou  then  do,  O 
savage  Biorn  ?  What  did  ye  do  at  his  bidding,  ye 
who  were  keeping  the  Yule  feast  with  him  ?  Try 
your  fortune  on  me.  The  Lord  will  be  with  me,  as 
He  was  with  those  holy  men.  To  arms,  and "  — 
he  turned  to  his  warriors  —  "  let  our  battle-cry  be 
Gotthard  and  Eudlieb ! " 

Then  Biorn  let  drop  his  drawn  sword,  then  his 
followers  paused,  and  none  among  the  Norwegians 
dared  lift  his  eyes  from  the  ground.  By  degrees, 
they  one  by  one  began  to  disappear  from  the  hall ; 
and  at  last  Biorn  stood  quite  alone  opposite  to  the 
baron  and  his  followers.  He  seemed  hardly  aware 
that  he  had  been  deserted,  but  he  fell  on  his  knees, 
stretched  out  his  shining  sword,  pointed  to  the 
broken  boar's  head,  and  said,  "  Do  with  me  as  you 
have  done  with  that;  I  deserve  no  better  I  ask 
but  one  favor,  only  one  ;  do  not  disgrace  me,  noble 
baron,  by  seeking  shelter  in  another  castle  of  Nor- 
wray." 

"I  fear  you   not,"  answered    Folko,  after   some 


874  SINTRAM   AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

thought ;  "  and,  as  far.  as  may  be,  I  freely  forgive 
you."  Then  he  drew  the  sign  of  the  cross  over  the 
wild  form  of  Biorn,  and  left  the  hall  with  Gabrielle. 
The  retainers  of  the  house  of  Montfaucon  followed 
him  proudly  and  silently. 

The  hard  spirit  of  the  fierce  lord  of  the  castle  was 
now  quite  broken,  and  he  watched  with  increased 
humility  every  look  of  Folko  and  Gabrielle.  But 
they  withdrew  more  and  more  into  the  happy  soli- 
tude of  their  own  apartments,  where  they  enjoyed, 
in  the  midst  of  the  sharp  winter,  a  bright  spring- tide 
of  happiness.  The  wounded  condition  of  Folko  did 
not  hinder  the  evening  delights  of  songs  and  music 
and  poetry,  but  rather  a  new  charm  was  added  to 
them  when  the  tall,  handsome  knight  leant  on  the 
arm  of  his  delicate  lady,  and  they  thus,  changing  as 
it  were  their  deportment  and  duties,  walked  slowly 
through  the  torch-lit  halls,  scattering  their  kindly 
greetings  like  flowers  among  the  crowds  of  men  and 
women. 

All  this  time  little  or  nothing  was  heard  of  poor 
Sintram.  The  last  wild  outbreak  of  his  father  had 
increased  the  terror  with  which  Gabrielle  remem- 
bered the  self-accusations  of  the  youth;  and  the 
more  resolutely  Folko  kept  silence,  the  more  did  she 
bode  some  dreadful  mystery.  Indeed,  a  secret  shud- 
der came  over  the  knight  when  he  thought  on  the 
oale,  dark-haired  youth.  Sintram's  repentance  had 
bordered  on  settled  despair ;  no  one  knew  even  what 
Ue  was  doing  in  the  fortress  of  evil-report  on  the 


SINTRAM   AND   HIS   COMPANIONS.  375 

Rocks  of  the  Moon.  Strange  rumors  were  brought 
by  the  retainers  who  had  flecl  from  it,  that  the  evil 
spirit  had  obtained  complete  power  over  Sintram, 
that  no  man  could  stay  with  him,  and  that  the  fidel- 
ity of  the  dark  mysterious  castellan  had  cost  him 
his  life. 

Folko  could  hardly  drive  away  the  fearful  suspi- 
cion that  the  lonely  young  knight  was  become  a 
wicked  magician. 

And  perhaps,  indeed,  evil  spirits  did  flit  about  the 
banished  Sintram,  but  it  was  without  his  calling 
them  up.  In  his  dreams  he  often  saw  the  wicked 
enchantress  Venus,  in  her  golden  chariot  drawn  by 
winged  cats,  pass  over  the  battlements  of  the  stone 
fortress,  and  heard  her  say,  mocking  him,  "  Foolish 
Sintram  !  hadst  thou  but  obeyed  the  little  Master, 
thou  wouldst  now  be  in  Helen's  arms,  and  the  Rocks 
of  the  Moon  would  be  called  the  Rocks  of  Love, 
and  the  stone  fortress  would  be  the  garden  of  roses. 
Thou  wouldst  have  lost  thy  pale  face  and  dark  hair, 
—  for  thou  art  only  enchanted,  dear  youth,  —  and 
thine  eyes  would  have  beamed  more  softly,  and  thy 
cheeks  bloomed  more  freshly,  and  thy  hair  would 
have  been  more  golden  than  was  that  of  Prince  Paris 
when  men  wondered  at  his  beauty.  Oh,  how  Helen 
would  have  loved  thee  1 "  Then  she  showed  him  in  a 
mirror,  how,  as  a  marvelously  beautiful  knight,  he 
knelt  before  Gabrielle,  who  sank  into  his  arms  blush 
ing  as  the  morning.  When  he  awoke  from  such 
dreams,  he  would  seize  eagerly  the  sword  and  scarf 


376  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

given  him  by  his  lady  —  as  a  shipwrecked  man  seizes 
the  plank  which  is  to  save  him ;  and  while  the  hot 
tears  fell  on  them,  he  would  murmur  to  himself, 
"  There  was,  indeed,  one  hour  in  my  sad  life  when  I 
was  worthy  and  happy." 

Once  he  sprang  up  at  midnight  after  one  of  these 
dreams,  but  this  time  with  more  thrilling  horror ;  for 
it  had  seemed  to  him  that  the  features  of  the  en- 
chantress Venus  had  changed  towards  the  end  of  her 
speech,  as  she  looked  down  upon  him  with  marvel- 
ous scorn,  and  she  appeared  to  him  as  the  hideous 
little  Master.  The  youth  had  no  better  means  of 
calming  his  distracted  mind  than  to  throw  the  sword 
and  scarf  of  Gabrielle  over  his  shoulders,  and  to 
hasten  forth  under  the  solemn  starry  canopy  of 
the  wintry  sky.  He  walked  in  deep  thought  back- 
wards and  forwards  under  the  leafless  oaks  and 
the  snow  laden  firs  which  grew  on  the  high  ram- 
parts. 

Then  he  heard  a  sorrowful  cry  of  distress  sound 
from  the  moat ;  it  was  as  if  some  one  were  attempt- 
ing to  sing,  but  was  stopped  by  inward  grief.  Sin- 
tram  exclaimed,  '"  Who's  there  ?  "  and  all  was  still. 
When  he  was  silent,  and  again  began  his  walk,  the 
frightful  groanings  and  meanings  were  heard  afresh, 
as  if  they  came  from  a  dying  person.  Sintram  over- 
came the  horror  which  seemed  to  hold  him  back, 
and  began  in  silence  to  climb  down  into  the  deep 
dry  moat  which  was  cut  in  the  rock.  He  was  soon 
so  low  down  that  he  could  no  longer  see  the  stars 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  377 

shining;  beneath  him  moved  a  shrouded  form: 
and  sliding  with  involuntary  haste  down  the  steep 
descent,  he  stood  near  the  groaning  figure ;  it  ceased 
its  lamentations,  and  began  to  laugh  like  a  maniac 
from  beneath  its  long,  folded,  female  garments. 

"  Oh,  ho,  my  comrade  !  oh,  ho,  my  comrade  !  wert 
thou  going  a  little  too  fast  ?  Well,  well,  it  is  all 
right ;  and  see  now,  thou  standest  no  higher  than  I» 
u\y  pious,  valiant  youth  !  Take  it  patiently,  —  take 
it  patiently ! " 

"  What  dost  thou  want  with  me  ?  Why  dost  thou 
laugh  ?  Why  dost  thou  weep  ? "  asked  Sintram  im- 
patiently. 

"  I  might  ask  thee  the  same  questions,"  answered 
the  dark  figure,  "  and  thou  wouldst  be  less  able  to 
answer  me  than  I  to  answer  thee.  Why  dost  thou 
laugh  ?  Why  dost  thou  weep  ?  Poor  creature !  But 
I  will  show  thee  a  remarkable  thing  in  thy  fortress, 
of  which  thou  knowest  nothing.     Give  heed ! " 

And  the  shrouded  figure  began  to  scratch  and 
scrape  at  the  stones  till  a  little  iron  door  opened,  and 
showed  a  long  passage  which  led  into  the  deep  dark- 
ness. 

"  Wilt  thou  come  with  me  ? "  whispered  the 
strange  being :  "  it  is  the  shortest  way  to  thy  father's 
castle.  In  half  an  hour  we  shall  come  out  of  this 
passage,  and  we  shall  be  in  thy  beauteous  lady's 
apartment.  Duke  Menelaus  shall  lie  in  a  magic 
sleep,  —  leave  that  to  me,  —  and  then  thou  wilt  take 
the  slight,  delicate  form  in  thine  arms,  and  bring  hei 


378  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

to  the  Rocks  of  the  Moon  ;  so  thou  wilt  win  back  al, 
that  seemed  lost  by  thy  former  wavering." 

Sintram  trembled  visibly,  fearfully  shaken  to  and 
fro  by  the  fever  of  passion  and  the  stings  of  con- 
science. But  at  last,  pressing  the  sword  and  scarf 
to  his  heart,  he  cried  out,  "  Oh,  that  fairest,  most 
glorious  hour  of  my  life !  If  T  lose  all  other  joys,  I 
will  hold  fast  that  brightest  ho.ir  ! " 

"  A  bright,  glorious  hour  ! ''  said  the  figure  from 
under  its  veil,  like  an  evil  echo.  "  Dost  thou  know 
whom  thou  then  conqueredst  ?  A  good  old  friend, 
who  only  showed  himself  so  sturdy  to  give  thee  the 
glory  of  overcoming  him.     Wilt  thou  look  ?  " 

The  dark  garments  of  the  little  figure  flew  open, 
and  the  dwarf  warrior  in  strange  armor,  the  gold 
horns  on  his  helmet,  and  the  curved  spear  in  his 
hand,  the  very  same  whom  Sintram  thought  he  had 
slain  on  Mflung's  Heath,  now  stood  before  him  and 
laughed :  "  Thou  seest,  my  youth,  everything  in  the 
wide  world  is  but  dreams  and  froth ;  wherefore  hold 
fast  the  dream  which  delights  thee,  and  sip  up  the 
froth  which  refreshes  thee !  Hasten  to  that  under- 
ground passage,  it  leads  up  to  thy  angel  Helen.  Or 
wouldst  thou  first  know  thy  friend  yet  better  ?  " 

His  visor  opened,  and  the  hateful  face  of  the  little 
Master  glared  upon  the  knight.  Sintram  asked,  as 
if  in  a  dream,  "  Art  thou  also  that  wicked  enchan- 
tress Venus  ? " 

"  Something  like  her,"  answered  the  little  Master, 
laughing,  "  or  rather  she  is  something  like  me.   And 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  379 

if  thou  wilt  only  get  disenchanted,  and  recover  the 
beauty  of  Prince  Paris,  —  then,  O  Prince  Paris," 
and  his  voice  changed  to  an  alluring  song,  "  then, 
O  Prince  Paris,  I  shall  be  fair  like  thee  ! " 

At  this  moment  the  good  Rolf  appeared  above  on 
the  rampart ;  a  consecrated  taper  in  his  lantern 
shone  down  into  the  moat,  as  he  sought  for  the  miss- 
ing young  knight.  "In  God's  name,  Sir  Sintram," 
he  called  out,  "  what  has  the  spectre  of  him  whom 
you  slew  on  Niflung's  Heath,  and  whom  I  never 
could  bury,  to  do  with  you  ?  " 

"  Seest  thou  well  ?  hearest  thou  well  ?  "  whispered 
the  little  Master,  and  drew  back  into  the  darkness 
of  the  underground  passage.  "  The  wise  man  up 
there  knows  me  well.  There  was  nothing  in  thy 
heroic  feat.  Come,  take  the  joys  of  life  while  thou 
mayst." 

But  Sintram  sprang  back,  with  strong  effort,  into 
the  circle  of  light  made  by  the  shining  of  the  taper 
from  above,  and  cried  out,  "  Depart  from  me,  un- 
quiet spirit !  I  know  well  that  I  bear  a  name  on  me 
in  which  thou  canst  have  no  part." 

Little  Master  rushed  in  fear  and  rage  into  the 
passage,  and  yelling,  shut  the  iron  door  behind  him. 
It  seemed  as  if  he  could  still  be  heard  groaning  and 
roaring. 

Sintram  climbed  up  the  wall  of  the  moat,  and 
made  a  sign  to  his  foster-father  not  to  speak  to  him : 
he  only  said,  "  One  of  my  best  joys,  yes,  the  very 


380 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 


best,  has  been  taken  from  me,  but,  by  God's  help, 
I  am  not  yet  lost." 

In  the  earliest  light  of  the  following  morning,  he 
and  Rolf  stopped  up  the  entrance  to  the  perilous 
passage  with  huge  blocks  of  stone. 


CHAPTER   XKIY. 

The  long  northern  winter  was  at  last  ended,  the 
fresh  green  leaves  rustled  merrily  in  the  woods, 
patches  of  soft  moss  twinkled  amongst  the  rocks, 
the  valleys  grew  green,  the  brooks  sparkled,  the 
snow  melted  from  all  but  the  highest  mountain-tops, 
and  the  bark  which  was  ready  to  carry  away  Folko 
and  Gabrielle,  danced  on  the  sunny  waves  of  the  sea. 
The  baron,  now  quite  recovered,  and  strong  and 
fresh  as  though  his  health  had  sustained  no  injury, 
stood  one  morning  on  the  shore  with  his  fair  lady ; 
and,  full  of  glee  at  the  prospect  of  returning  to  their 
home,  the  noble  pair  looked  on  well  pleased  at  their 
attendants  who  were  busied  in  lading  the  ship. 

Then  said  one  of  them,  in  the  midst  of  a  confused 
sound  of  talking :  "  But  what  has  appeared  to  me 
the  most  fearful  and  the  most  strange  thing  in  this 
northern  land  is  the  stone  fortress  on  the  Rocks  of 
the  Moon.  I  have  never,  indeed,  been  inside  it,  but 
when  I  used  to  see  it  in  our  huntings,  towering  above 
the  tall  fir-trees,  there  came  a  tightness  over  my 
breast,  as  if  something  unearthly  were  dwelling  in 
it.  And  a  few  weeks  ago,  when  the  snow  was  yet 
lying   hard   in  the  valleys,  I  came   unawares  quite 


382  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

close  upon  the  strange  building.  The  young  knight 
Sintram  was  walking  alone  on  the  ramparts  as  twi- 
light came  on,  like  the  spirit  of  a  departed  knight, 
and  he  drew  from  the  lute  which  he  carried  such 
soft,  melancholy  tones,  and  he  sighed  so  deeply  and 
sorrowfully  "  .  .  .  . 

The  voice  of  the  speaker  was  drowned  in  the 
noise  of  the  crowd,  and  as  he  also  just  then  reached 
the  ship  with  his  package  hastily  fastened  up,  Folko 
and  Gabrielle  could  not  hear  the  rest  of  his  speech. 
But  the  fkir  lady  looked  on  her  knight  with  eyes  dim 
with  tears,  and  sighed:  "Is  it  not  behind  those 
mountains  that  the  Rocks  of  the  Moon  lie  ?  The 
unhappy  Sintram  makes  me  sad  at  heart." 

"  I  understand  thee,  sweet,  gracious  lady,  and  the 
pure  compassion  of  thy  heart,"  replied  Folko,  in- 
stantly ordering  his  swift-footed  steed  to  be  brought. 
He  placed  his  noble  lady  under  the  charge  of  his 
retainers,  and  leaping  into  the  saddle,  he  hastened, 
followed  by  the  grateful  smiles  of  Gabrielle,  along 
the  valley  towards  the  stone  fortress. 

Sintram  was  seafted  near  the  draw-bridge,  touching 
the  strings  of  the  lute,  and  shedding  some  tears  on 
the  golden  chords,  almost  as  Montfaucon's  esquire 
had  described  him.  Suddenly  a  cloudy  shadow 
passed  over  him,  and  he  looked  up,  expecting  to  see 
a  flight  of  cranes  in  the  air ;  but  the  sky  was  clear 
and  blue.  While  the  young  knight  was  still  won- 
dering, a  long,  bright  spear  fell  at  his  feet  from  a 
battlement  of  the  armory-turret. 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  383 

<'  Take  it  up,  —  make  good  use  of  it !  thy  foe  is 
near  at  hand  !  Near  also  is  the  downfall  of  thy  dear- 
est happiness."  Thus  he  heard  it  distinctly  whis- 
pered in  his  ear ;  and  it  seemed  to  him  that  he  saw 
the  shadow  of  the  little  Master  glide  close  by  him  to  a 
neighborino-  cleft  in  the  rock  But  at  the  same  time 
also,  a  tall,  gigantic,  haggard  figure  passed  along  the 
valley,  in  some  measure  like  the  departed  pilgrim, 
only  much,  very  much  larger,  and  he  raised  his  long, 
bony  arm,  fearfully  threatening,  then  disappeared  in 
an  ancient  tomb. 

At  the  very  same  instant  Sir  Folko  of  Montfau- 
con  came  swiftly  as  the  wind  up  the  Rocks  of  the 
Moon,  and  he  must  have  seen  something  of  those 
strange  apparitions,  for,  as  he  stopped  close  behind 
Sintram,  he  looked  rather  pale,  and  asked  low  and 
earnestly :  "  Sir  Knight,  who  are  those  two  with 
whom  you  were  just  now  holding  converse  here?" 

"  The  good  God  knows,"  answered  Sintram ; 
"  I  know  them  not."  — "  If  the  good  God  does  but 
know ! "  cried  Montfaucon :  "  but  I  fear  me  that  He 
knows  very  little  more  of  you  or  your  deeds." 

"  You  speak  strangely  harsh  words,"  said  Sintram. 
"  Yet  ever  since  that  evening  of  misery,  —  alas !  and 
even  long  before,  —  I  must  bear  with  all  that  comes 
from  you.  Dear  sir,  you  may  believe  me,  I  know 
not  those  fearful  companions ;  I  call  them  not,  and 
I  know  not  what  terrible  curse  binds  them  to  my 
footsteps.  The  merciful  God,  as  I  would  hope,  is 
mindful  of  me  the  while,  —  as  a  faithful  shepherd 


384  SINTRAM   AND   HIS    COMPANIONS. 

does  not  forget  even  the  worst  and  most  widely- 
straying  of  his  flock,  but  calls  after  it  with  an 
anxious  voice  in  the  gloomy  wilderness." 

Then  the  anger  of  the  baron  was  quite  melted. 
Two  bright  tears  stood  in  his  eyes,  and  he  said : 
"  No,  assuredly  God  has  not  forgotten  thee ;  only  do 
thou  not  forget  thy  gracious  God.  I  did  not  come 
to  rebuke  thee  ;  I  came  to  bless  thee  in  Gabrielle's 
name  and  in  my  own.  The  Lord  preserve  thee,  the 
Lord  guide  thee,  the  Lord  lift  thee  up !  And,  Sin- 
tram,  on  the  far  ofF-shores  of  Normandy  I  shall  beat 
thee  in  mind,  and  I  shall  hear  how  thou  strugglest 
against  the  curse  which  weighs  down  thy  unhappy 
life ;  and  if  thou  ever  shake  it  off,  and  stand  as  a 
noble  conqueror  over  Sin  and  Death,  then  thou  shalt 
receive  from  me  a  token  of  love  and  reward,  more 
precious  than  either  thou  or  I  can  understand  at  this 
moment." 

The  words  flowed  prophetically  from  the  baron's 
lips ;  he  himself  was  only  half-conscious  of  what  he 
said.  With  a  kind  salutation  he  turned  his  noble 
steed,  and  again  flew  down  the  valley  towards  the 
sea- shore. 

"  Fool,  fool !  thrice  a  fool ! "  whispered  the  angry 
voice  of  the  little  Master  in  Sintram's  ear.  But  old 
Rolf  was  singing  his  morning  hymn  in  clear  tones 
within  the  castle,  and  the  last  lines  were  these  :  — 

''  Whom  worldlings  scorn, 
Who  lives  forlorn, 

On  God's  own  word  doth  rest; 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  385 

With  heavenly  light 
His  path  is  bright : 

His  lot  among  the  blest." 

Then  a  holy  joy  took  possession  of  Sintram's 
heart,  and  he  looked  around  him  yet  more  gladly 
than  in  the  hour  when  Gabrielle  gave  him  the  scarf 
and  sword  and  Folko  dubbed  him  knight. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

The  baron  and  his  lovely  lady  were  sailing  across 
the  broad  sea  with  favoring  gales  of  spring,  nay,  the 
coast  of  Normandy  had  already  appeared  above  the 
waves ;  but  still  was  Biorn  of  the  Fiery  Eyes  sitting 
gloomy  and  speechless  in  his  castle.  He  had  taken 
no  leave  of  his  guests.  There  was  more  of  proud 
fear  of  Montfaucon  than  of  reverential  love  for  him 
in  his  soul,  especially  since  the  adventure  with  the 
boar's  head;  and  the  thought  was  bitter  to  his 
haughty  spirit  that  the  great  baron,  the  flower  and 
glory  of  their  whole  race  should  have  come  in  peace 
to  visit  him,  and  should  now  be  departing  in  dis' 
pleasure,  —  in  stern,  reproachful  displeasure.  He 
had  constantly  before  his  mind,  and  it  never  failed  to 
bring  fresh  pangs,  the  remembrance  of  how  all  had 
come  to  pass,  and  how  all  might  have  gone  other- 
wise ;  and  he  was  always  fancying  he  could  hear  the 
songs  in  which  after  generations  would  recount  this 
voyage  of  the  great  Folko,  and  the  worthlessness  ot 
the  savage  Biorn.  At  length,  full  of  fierce  anger, 
lie  cast  away  the  fetters  of  his  troubled  spirit,  he 
burst  out  of  the  castle  with  all  his  horsemen,  and 
began  to  carry  on  a  warfare  more  fearful  and  more 
lawless  than  any  in  which  he  had  yet  been  engaged. 


SINTRAM  AND   HIS   COMPANIONS.  387 

Sintram  heard  the  sound  of  his  father's  war-horn  $ 
and,  committing  the  stone  fortress  to  old  Rolf,  he 
sprang  forth,  ready  armed  for  the  combat.  But  the 
flames  of  the  cottages  and  farms  on  the  mountains 
rose  up  before  him,  and  showed  him,  written  as  if 
in  characters  of  fire,  what  kind  of  war  his  father  was 
waging.  Yet  he  went  on  towards  the  spot  where 
the  army  was  mustered,  but  only  to  offer  his  media- 
tion, affirming  that  he  would  not  lay  his  hand  on  his 
good  sword  in  so  abhorred  a  service,  even  though 
the  stone  fortress,  and  his  father's  castle  besides, 
should  fall  before  the  vengeance  of  their  enemies. 
Biorn  hurled  the  spear  which  he  held  in  his  hand 
against  his  son  with  mad  fury.  The  deadly  weapon 
whizzed  past  him  :  Sintram  remained  standing  with 
his  visor  raised  ;  he  did  not  move  one  limb  in  his 
defense,  when  he  said  :  "  Father,  do  what  you  will ; 
but  I  join  not  in  your  godless  warfare." 

Biorn  of  the  Fiery  Eyes  laughed  scornfully :  *'  It 
seems  I  am  always  to  have  a  spy  over  me  here  ;  my 
son  succeeds  to  the  dainty  French  knight !  "  But 
nevertheless  he  came  to  himself,  accepted  Sintram's 
mediation,  made  amends  for  the  injuries  he  had 
done,  and  returned  gloomily  to  his  castle.  Sintram 
went  back  to  the  Rocks  of  the  Moon. 

Such  occurrences  were  frequent  after  that  time, 
rt  went  so  far  that  Sintram  came  to  be  looked  upon 
as  the  protector  of  all  those  whom  his  father  pursued 
with  relentless  fury  ;  but  nevertheless,  sometimes  his 
own  wildness  would  carry  the  young  knight  away  to 


388  SINTRAM  AND   HIS   COMPANIONS. 

accompany  his  fierce  father  in  his  fearful  deeds. 
Then  Biorn  used  to  laugh  with  horrible  pleasure, 
and  to  say :  "  See  there,  my  son,  how  the  flames  we 
have  lighted  blaze  up  from  the  villages,  as  the  blood 
spouts  up  from  the  wounds  our  swords  have  made  ! 
It  is  plain  to  me,  however  much  thou  mayest  pre- 
tend to  the  contrary,  that  thou  art,  and  wilt  ever  re- 
main, my  true  and  beloved  heir  !  " 

After  thus  fearfully  erring,  Sintram  could  find  no 
comfort  but  in  hastening  to  the  chaplain  of  Dron- 
theim,  and  confessing  to  him  his  misery  and  his  sins. 
The  chaplain  would  freely  absolve  him,  after  due 
penance  and  repentance,  and  again  raise  up  the 
broken-hearted  youth  ;  but  would  often  say  :  "  Oh 
how  nearly  hadst  thou  reached  thy  last  trial,  and 
gained  the  victory,  and  looked  on  Yerena's  coun- 
tenance, and  atoned  for  all  !  Now  thou  hast  thrown 
thyself  back  for  years.  Think,  my  son,  on  the  short- 
ness of  man's  life ;  if  thou  art  always  falling  back 
anew,  how  wilt  thou  ever  gain  the  summit  on  this 
side  the  grave  ?  " 

Years  came  and  went,  and  Biorn's  hair  was  white 
as  snow,  and  the  youth  Sintram  had  reached  the 
middle  age.  Old  Rolf  was  now  scarcely  able  to 
leave  the  stone  fortress ;  and  sometimes  he  said :  "  I 
feel  it  a  burden  that  my  life  should  yet  be  prolonged ; 
but  also  there  is  much  comfort  in  it,  for  I  still  think 
the  good  God  has  in  store  for  me  here  below  some 
great  happiness  ;  and  it  must  be  something  in  which 
you  are  concerned,  my  beloved  Sir  Sintram,  for  what 
else  in  the  whole  world  could  rejoice  me  ?  " 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  389 

But  all  remained  as  it  was,  and  Sintram's  fearful 
dreams  at  Christmas-time,  each  year  rather  increased 
than  diminished  in  horror.  Again  the  holy  season 
was  drawing  near,  and  the  mind  of  the  sorely  af- 
flicted knight  was  more  troubled  than  ever  before. 
Sometimes,  if  he  had  been  reckoning  up  the  nights 
till  it  should  come,  a  cold  sweat  would  stand  on  his 
forehead,  while  he  said,  "  Mark  my  words,  dear  old 
foster-father,  this  time  something  most  awfully  de- 
cisive lies  before  me." 

One  evening  he  felt  an  overwhelming  anxiety 
about  his  father.  It  seemed  to  him  that  the  Prince 
of  Darkness  was  going  up  to  Biorn's  castle  ;  and  in 
vain  did  Rolf  remind  him  that  the  snow  was  lying 
deep  in  the  valleys,  in  vain  did  he  suggest  that  the 
knight  might  be  overtaken  by  his  frightful  dreams  in 
the  lonely  moimtains  during  the  night-time.  "  Noth- 
ing can  be  worse  to  me  than  remaining  here  would 
be,"  replied  Sintram. 

He  took  his  horse  from  the  stable  and  rode  forth 
in  the  gathering  darkness.  The  noble  steed  slipped 
and  stumbled  and  fell  in  the  trackless  ways,  but  his 
rider  always  raised  him  up,  and  urged  him  only 
more  swiftly  and  eagerly  towards  the  object  which 
he  longed  and  yet  dreaded  to  reach.  Nevertheless, 
he  might  never  have  arrived  at  it,  had  not  his  faith- 
ful hound  Skovmark  kept  with  him.  The  dog 
sought  out  the  lost  track  for  his  beloved  master,  and 
'tuvited  him  into  it  with  joyous  barkings,  and  warned 
him  by  his  howls  against  precipices  and  treacherous 


890  SINTRAM  AND  HIS   COMPANIONS. 

ice  under  the  snow.  Thus  they  arrived  about  mid- 
night at  Biorn's  castle.  The  windows  of  the  hall 
shone  opposite  to  them  with  a  brilliant  light,  as 
though  some  great  feast  were  kept  there,  and  con- 
fused sounds,  as  of  singing,  met  their  ears.  Sintram 
gave  his  horse  hastily  to  some  retainers  in  the  court- 
yard, and  ran  up  the  steps,  whilst  Skovmark  stayed 
by  the  well-known  horse. 

A  good  esquire  came  towards  Sintram  within  the 
castle,  and  said,  "  God  be  praised,  my  dear  master, 
that  you  are  come  ;  for  surely  nothing  good  is  going 
on  above.  But  take  heed  to  yourself  also,  and  be 
not  deluded.  Your  father  has  a  guest  with  him,  — 
and,  as  I  think,  a  hateful  one." 

Sintram  shuddered  as  he  threw  open  the  doors. 
A  little  man  in  the  dress  of  a  miner  was  sitting  with 
his  back  towards  him.  The  armor  had  been,  for 
some  time  past,  again  ranged  round  the  stone  table, 
so  that  only  two  places  were  left  empty.  The  seat 
opposite  the  door  had  been  taken  by  Biorn  of  the 
Fiery  Eyes ;  and  the  dazzling  light  of  the  torches 
fell  upon  his  features  with  so  red  a  flare,  that  he 
perfectly  enacted  that  fearful  surname. 

"  Father,  whom  have  you  here  with  you  ?  "  cried 
Sintram  ;  and  his  suspicions  rose  to  certainty  as  the 
miner  turned  round,  and  the  detestable  face  of  the 
little  Master  grinned  from  under  his  dark  hood. 

"  Yes,  just  see,  my  fair  son,"  said  the  wild  Biorn  ; 
"  thou  hast  not  been  here  for  a  long  while,  and  so 
to-night  this  jolly  comrade  has  paid  me  a  visit,  and 


SINTRAM   AND   HIS  COMPANIONS.  391 

thy  place  has  been  taken.  But  throw  one  of  the 
suits  of  armor  out  of  the  way,  and  put  a  seat  for 
thyself  instead  of  it,  and  come  and  drink  with  us, 
and  be  merry." 

"  Yes,  do  so,  Sir  Sintram,"  said  the  little  Master, 
with  a  laugh.  "  Nothing  worse  could  come  of  it 
than  that  the  broken  pieces  of  armor  might  clatter 
somewhat  strangely  together,  or  at  most  that  the 
disturbed  spirit  of  him  to  whom  the  suit  belonged 
might  look  over  your  shoulder ;  but  he  would  not 
drink  up  any  of  our  wine  —  ghosts  have  nothing  to 
do  with  that.     So  now  fall  to  !  " 

Biom  joined  in  the  laughter  of  the  hideous 
stranger  with  wild  mirth;  and  while  Sintram  was 
mustering  up  his  whole  strength  not  to  lose  his 
senses  at  so  terrible  words,  and  was  fixing  a  calm, 
steady  look  on  the  little  Master's  face,  the  old  man 
cried  out,  "  Why  dost  thou  look  at  him  so  ?  Does  it 
seem  to  thee  as  though  thou  sawest  thyself  in  a  mir- 
ror ?  Now  that  you  are  together,  I  do  not  see  it  so 
much  ;  but  a  while  ago  I  thought  that  you  were  like 
enough  to  each  other  to  be  mistaken." 

"  God  forbid  ! "  said  Sintram,  walking  up  close  to 
the  fearful  apparition  :  "  I  command  thee,  detestable 
stranger,  to  depart  from  this  castle,  in  right  of  my 
authority  as  my  father's  heir,  as  a  consecrated  knight 
and  as  a  spirit !  " 

Biorn  seemed  as  if  he  wished  to  oppose  himself 
CO  this  command  with  all  his  savage  might.  The 
little  Master  muttered  to  himself,  "  Thou  art  not,  by 


392  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

any  means,  the  master  in  this  house,  pious  knight ; 
thou  hast  never  lighted  a  fire  on  this  hearth."  Then 
Sintram  drew  the  sword  which  Gabrielle  had  given 
him,  held  the  cross  of  the  hilt  before  the  eyes  of  his 
evil  guest,  and  said  calmly,  but  with  a  powerful 
voice,  "  Worship,  or  fly  !  "  And  he  fled,  the  frightful 
stranger,  —  he  fled  with  such  lightning  speed,  that  it 
could  scarcely  be  seen  whether  he  had  sprung 
through  the  window  or  the  door.  But  in  going  he 
overthrew  some  of  the  armor,  the  tapers  went  out, 
and  it  seemed  that  the  pale  blue  flame  which  lighted 
up  the  hall  in  a  marvelous  manner  gave  a  fulfillment 
to  the  little  Master's  former  words :  and  that  the 
spirits  of  those  to  whom  the  armor  had  belonged 
were  leaning  over  the  table,  grinning  fearfully. 

Both  the  father  and  the  son  were  filled  with  hor^ 
ror,  but  each  chose  an  opposite  way  to  save  himself. 
Biorn  wished  to  have  his  hateful  guest  back  again  ; 
and  the  power  of  his  will  was  seen  when  the  little 
Master's  step  resounded  anew  on  the  stairs,  and  his 
brown,  shriveled  hand  shook  the  lock  of  the  door. 
On  the  other  hand,  Sintram  ceased  not  to  say  within 
himself,  "  "We  are  lost,  if  he  come  back !  We  are 
lost  to  all  eternity,  if  he  come  back  ! "  And  he  fell 
on  his  knees,  and  prayed  fervently  from  his  troubled 
heart  to  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost.  Then  the 
little  Master  left  the  door,  and  again  Biorn  willed 
him  to  return,  and  again  Sintram's  prayers  drove 
him  away.  So  went  on  this  strife  of  wills  through- 
out the  long  night ;  and  howling  whirlwinds  raged 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  393 

the  while  around  the  castle,  till  all  the  household 
thought  the  end  of  the  world  was  come.  At  length 
the  dawn  of  morning  appeared  through  the  windows 
of  the  hall,  —  the  fury  of  the  storm  was  lulled,  — 
Biorn  sank  back  powerless  in  slumber  on  his  seat,  — 
peace  and  hope  came  to  the  inmates  of  the  castle,  — 
and  Sintram,  pale  and  exhausted,  went  out  to  breathe 
the  dewy  air  of  the  mild  winter's  morning  before  the 
castle-gates. 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

The  faithful  Skovmark  followed  his  master 
caressing  him ;  and  when  Sintrara  fell  asleep  on  a 
stone  seat  in  the  wall,  he  lay  at  his  feet,  keeping 
watchful  guard.  Suddenly  he  pricked  up  his  ears, 
looked  round  with  delight,  and  bounded  joyfully 
down  the  mountain.  Just  afterwards  the  chaplain 
of  Drontheim  appeared  amongst  the  rocks,  and  the 
good  beast  went  up  to  him,  as  if  to  greet  him,  and 
then  again  ran  back  to  the  knight  to  announce  the 
welcome  visitor. 

Sintram  opened  his  eyes,  as  a  child  whose  Christ- 
mas-gifts have  been  placed  at  his  bedside.  For  the 
chaplain  smiled  at  him  as  he  had  never  yet  seen  him 
smile.  There  was  in  it  a  token  of  victory  and  bless- 
ing, or  at  least  of  the  near  approach  of  both.  "  Thou 
hast  done  much  yesterday,  very  much,"  said  the  holy 
priest ;  and  his  hands  were  joined,  and  his  eyes  full 
of  bright  tears.  "  I  praise  God  for  thee,  my  noble 
knight.  Verena  knows  all,  and  she  too  praises  God 
for  thee.  I  do  indeed  now  dare  hope  that  the  time 
will  soon  come  when  thou  mayst  appear  before  her 
But  Sintram,  Sir  Sintram,  there  is  need  of  haste ; 
for  the  old  man  above  requires  speedy  aid,  and  thou 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  396 

hast  still  a  heavy  —  as  I  hope,  the  last  —  yet  a  most 
heavy  trial  to  undergo  for  his  sake.  Arm  thyself, 
my  knight,  arm  thyself  even  with  bodily  weapons. 
In  truth,  this  time  only  spiritual  armor  is  needed, 
but  it  always  befits  a  knight,  as  well  as  a  monk,  to 
wear  in  decisive  moments  the  entire  solemn  garb  of 
his  station.  If  it  so  please  thee,  we  will  go  directly 
to  Drontheim  together.  Thou  must  return  thence 
to-night.  Such  is  a  part  of  the  hidden  decree,  which 
has  been  dimly  unfolded  to  Verena's  foresight.  Here 
there  is  yet  much  that  is  wild  and  distracting,  and 
thou  hast  great  need  to-day  of  calm  preparation." 

With  humble  joy  Sintram  bowed  his  assent,  and 
called  for  his  horse  and  for  a  suit  of  armor.  "  Only," 
added  he,  "  let  not  any  of  that  armor  be  brought 
which  was  last  night  overthrown  in  the  hall ! " 

His  orders  were  quickly  obeyed.  The  arms  which 
were  fetched,  adorned  with  fine  engraved  work,  the 
simple  helmet,  formed  rather  like  that  of  an  esquire 
than  a  knight,  the  lance  of  almost  gigantic  size,- 
which  belonged  to  the  suit  —  on  all  these  the  chap- 
lain gazed  in  deep  thought  and  with  melancholy 
emotion.  At  last,  when  Sintram,  with  the  help  of 
bis  esquires,  was  well-nigh  equipped,  the  holy  priest 
spoke :  — 

"  Wonderful  providence  of  God  !  See,  dear  Sin- 
tram, this  armor  and  this  spear  were  formerly  those 
of  Sir  Weigand  the  Slender,  and  with  them  he  did 
many  mighty  deeds.  When  he  was  tended  by  your 
motlier  in  the  castle,  and  when  even  your  father  still 


396  SINTRAM  AND  HIS   COMPANIONS. 

showed  himself  kind  towards  him,  he  asked,  as  a 
favor,  that  his  armor  and  his  lance  should  be  allowed 
to  hang  in  Biorn's  armory,  —  Weigand  himself,  as 
you  well  know,  intended  to  build  a  cloister  and  to 
live  there  as  a  monk,  —  and  he  put  his  old  esquire's 
helmet  with  it,  instead  of  another,  because  he  was 
yet  wearing  that  one  when  he  first  saw  the  fair  Ve- 
rena's  angelic  face.  How  wondrously  does  it  now 
come  to  pass,  that  these  very  arms,  which  have  so 
long  been  laid  aside,  should  be  brought  to  you  for 
the  decisive  hour  of  your  life !  To  me,  as  far  as  my 
short-sighted  human  wisdom  can  tell, — to  me  it 
seems  truly  a  very  solenm  token,  but  one  full  of  high 
and  glorious  promise.'* 

Sintram*  stood  now  in  complete  array,  composed 
and  stately,  and,  from  his  tall,  slender  figure,  might 
have  been  taken  for  a  youth,  had  not  the  deep  lines 
of  care  which  furrowed  his  countenance  shown  him 
to  be  advanced  in  years. 

"  Who  has  placed  boughs  on  the  head  of  my  war- 
horse  ? "  asked  Sin  tram  of  the  esquires,  with  dis- 
pleasure. "  I  am  not  a  conqueror,  nor  a  wedding- 
guest.  And  besides,  there  are  no  boughs  now  but 
those  red  and  yellow  crackling  oak-leaves,  dull  and 
dead  like  the  season  itself." 

"  Sir  Knight,  I  know  not  myself,"  answered  an  es- 
quire ;  "  but  it  seemed  to  me  that  it  must  be  so." 

"  Let  it  be,"  said  the  chaplain.  "  I  feel  that  this 
aiso  comes  as  a  token  full  of  meaning  from  the  right 
source." 


SINTRAM   AND   HIS    COMPANIONS.  397 

Then  the  knight  threw  himself  into  his  saddle  ; 
the  priest  went  beside  him ;  and  they  both  rode 
slowly  and  silently  towards  Drontheim.  The  faith- 
ful dog  followed  his  master.  When  the  lofty  castle 
of  Drontheim  appeared  in  sight,  a  gentle  smile 
spread  itself  over  Sintram's  countenance,  like  sun- 
shine over  a  wintry  valley. 

"  God  has  done  great  things  for  me,"  said  he.  "  I 
once  rushed  from  here,  a  fearfully  wild  boy ;  I  now 
come  back  a  penitent  man.  I  trust  that  it  will  yet 
go  well  with  my  poor  troubled  life." 

The  chaplain  assented  kindly,  and  soon  afterwards 
the  travellers  passed  under  the  echoing  vaulted 
gateway  into  the  castle-yard.  At  a  sign  from  the 
priest,  the  retainers  approached  with  respectful  haste, 
and  took  charge  of  the  horse ;  then  he  and  Sintram 
went  through  long  winding  passages  and  up  many 
steps  to  the  remote  chamber  which  the  chaplain  had 
chosen  for  himself;  far  away  from  the  noise  of  men, 
dud  near  to  the  clouds  and  the  stars.  There  the 
two  passed  a  quiet  day  in  devout  prayer,  and  earnest 
reading  of  Holy  Scripture. 

When  the  evening  began  to  close  in,  the  chaplain 
arose  and  said :  "  And  now,  my  knight,  get  ready 
thy  horse,  and  mount  and  ride  back  again  to  thy 
father's  castle.  A  toilsome  way  lies  before  thee,  and 
I  dare  not  go  with  you.  But  I  can  and  will  call 
upon  the  Lord  for  you  all  through  the  long  fearful 
night.  O  beloved  instrument  of  the  Most  High, 
thou  wilt  yet  not  be  lost ! " 


398  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

Thrilling  with  strange  forebodings,  but  neverthe- 
less strong  and  vigorous  in  spirit,  Sintram  did  ac- 
cording to  the  holy  man's  desire.  The  sun  set  as 
the  knight  approached  a  long  valley,  strangely  shut 
in  by  rocks,  through  which  lay  the  road  to  his 
father's  castle. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Before  entering  the  rocky  pass,  the  knight,  with 
a  prayer  and  thanksgiving,  looked  back  once  more 
at  the  castle  of  Drontheim.  There  it  was,  so  vast 
and  quiet  and  peaceful ;  the  bright  windows  of  the 
chaplain's  high  chamber  yet  lighted  up  by  the  last 
gleam  of  the  sun,  which  had  already  disappeared. 
In  front  of  Sintram  was  the  gloomy  valley,  as  if  his 
grave.  Then  there  came  towards  him  some  one  rid- 
ing on  a  small  horse  ;  and  Skovmark,  who  had  gone 
up  to  the  stranger  as  if  to  find  out  wlio  he  was,  now 
ran  back  with  his  tail  between  his  legs  and  his  ears 
put  back,  howling  and  whining,  and  crept,  terrified, 
under  his  master's  war-horse.  But  even  the  noble 
steed  appeared  to  have  forgotten  his  once  so  fearless 
and  warlike  ardor.  He  trembled  violently,  and  when 
the  knight  would  have  turned  him  towards  the  stran- 
ger, he  reared  and  snorted  and  plunged,  and  began 
to  throw  himself  backwards.  It  was  only  with  dif- 
ficulty that  Sintram's  strength  and  horsemanship  got 
the  better  of  him ;  and  he  was  all  white  with  foam 
when  Sintram  came  up  to  the  unknown  traveller. 

"  You  have  cowardly  beasts  with  you,"  said  the  lat- 
ter, in  a  low,  smothered  voice. 


400  SINTRAM   AND   HIS   COMPANIONS. 

Sintram  was  unable,  in  the  ever-increasing  dark- 
ness, rightly  to  distinguish  what  kind  of  being  he 
saw  before  him ;  only  a  very  pallid  face,  which  at 
first  he  had  thought  was  covered  with  freshly  fallen 
snow,  met  his  eyes  from  amidst  the  long,  hanging 
garments.  It  seemed  that  the  stranger  carried  a 
small  box  wrapped  up  ;  his  little  horse,  as  if  wearied 
out,  bent  his  head  down  towards  the  ground,  where- 
by a  bell,  which  hung  from  the  wretched  torn  bridle 
under  his  neck,  was  made  to  give  a  strange  sound. 
After  a  short  silence,  Sintram  replied :  "  Noble 
steeds  avoid  those  of  a  worse  race,  because  they  are 
ashamed  of  them  ;•  and  the  boldest  dogs  are  attacked 
by  a  secret  terror  at  sight  of  forms  to  which  they 
are  not  accustomed.  I  have  no  cowardly  beasts  with 
me." 

"  Good,  sir  knight ;  then  ride  with  me  through  the 
valley." 

"  I  am  going  through  the  valley,  but  I  want  no 
companions." 

"  But  perhaps  I  want  one.  Do  you  not  see  that  I 
am  unarmed?  And  at  this  season,  at  this  hour, 
there  are  frightful,  unearthly  beasts  about." 

Just  then,  as  though  to  confirm  the  awful  words 
of  the  stranger,  a  thing  swung  itself  down  from  one 
of  the  nearest  trees,  covered  with  hoar-frost,  —  no 
one  could  say  if  it  were  a  snake  or  a  lizard,  —  it 
curled  and  twisted  itself,  and  appeared  about  to 
slide  down  upon  the  knight  or  his  companion.  Sin- 
tram leveled  his  spear,   and   pierced  the  creature 


SINTRAM    AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  401 

through.  But,  with  the  most  hideous  contortions, 
It  fixed  itself  firmly  on  the  spear-head  ;  and  in  vain 
did  the  knight  endeavor  to  rub  it  off  against  the 
rocks  or  the  trees.  Then  he  let  his  spear  rest  upon 
his  right  shoulder,  with  the  point  behind  him,  so  that 
the  horrible  beast  no  longer  met  his  sight ;  and  he 
said,  with  good  courage,  to  the  stranger,  "  It  does 
seem,  indeed,  that  I  could  help  you,  and  I  am  not 
forbidden  to  have  an  unknown  stranger  in  my  com- 
pany ;  so  let  us  push  on  bravely  into  the  valley  ! " 

"  Help !  "  so  resounded  the  solemn  answer  ;  "  not 
help.  I  perhaps  may  help  thee.  But  God  have 
mercy  upon  thee  if  the  time  should  ever  come  when 
I  could  no  longer  help  thee.  Then  thou  wouldst  be 
lost,  and  I  should  become  very  frightful  to  thee.  But 
we  will  go  through  the  valley  —  1  have  thy  knightly 
word  for  it.     Come  !  " 

They  rode  forward  ;  Sintram's  horse  still  showing 
signs  of  fear,  the  faithful  dog  still  whining  ;  but  both 
obedient  to  their  master's  will.  The  knight  was 
calm  and  steadfast.  The  snow  had  slipped  down  from 
the  smooth  rocks,  and  by  the  light  of  the  rising 
moon  could  be  seen  various  strange  twisted  shapes 
on  their  sides,  some  looking  like  snakes,  and  some 
like  human  faces  ;  but  they  were  only  formed  by  the 
veins  in  the  rock  and  the  half-bare  roots  of  trees, 
which  had  planted  themselves  in  that  desert  place 
with  capricious  firmness.  High  above  and  at  a  great 
distance,  the  castle  of  Drontheim,  as  if  to  take  leave, 
appeared  again  through  an  opening  in  the   rocks. 

26 


402  SmTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

The  knight  then  looked  keenly  at  his  companion, 
and  he  almost  felt  as  if  Weigand  the  Slender  were 
riding  beside  him. 

"  In  God's  name,"  cried  he,  "  art  thou  not  the 
shade  of  that  departed  knight  who  suffered  and  died 
for  Verena  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  suffered,  I  have  not  died ;  but  ye 
suffer,  and  ye  die,  poor  mortals!"  murmured  the 
stranger.  "  I  am  not  Weigand.  I  am  that  other, 
who  was  so  like  him,  and  whom  thou  hast  also  met 
before  now  in  the  wood." 

Sintram  strove  to  free  himself  from  the  terror 
which  came  over  him  at  these  words.  He  looked  at 
his  horse  ;  it  appeared  to  him  entirely  altered.  The 
dry,  many-colored  oak-leaves  on  its  head  were  wav- 
ing like  the  flames  around  a  sacrifice,  in  the  uncer- 
tain moonlight.  He  looked  down  again,  to  see  after 
his  faithful  Skovmark.  Fear  had  likewise  most 
wondrously  changed  him.  On  the  ground  in  the 
middle  of  the  road  were  lying  dead  men's  bones, 
and  hideous  lizards  were  crawling  about ;  and,  in 
defiance  of  the  wintry  season,  poisonous  mushrooms 
were  growing  up  all  around. 

"  Can  this  be  still  my  horse  on  which  I  am  rid- 
ing ? "  said  the  knight  to  himself,  in  a  low  voice ; 
"  and  can  that  trembling  beast  which  runs  at  my 
side  be  my  dog  ?  " 

Then  some  one  called  after  him,  in  a  yelling  voice, 
*'  Stop  !  stop  !     Take  me  also  with  you  ! " 

Looking  round,  Sintram  perceived  a  small,  fright* 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  403 

fill  figure  with  horns,  and  a  face  partly  like  a  wild 
boar  and  partly  like  a  bear,  walking  along  on  its  hind- 
legs,  which  were  those  of  a  horse  ;  and  in  its  hand 
was  a  strange,  hideous  weapon,  shaped  like  a  hook 
or  a  sickle.  It  was  the  being  who  had  been  wont 
to  trouble  him  in  his  dreams  ;  and,  alas  !  it  was  also 
the  wretched  little  Master  himself,  who,  laughing 
wildly,  stretched  out  a  long  claw  towards  the  knight. 

The  bewildered  Sintram  murmured,  "  I  must  have 
fallen  asleep  ;  and  now  my  dreams  are  coming  over 
me!" 

"  Thou  art  awake,"  replied  the  rider  of  the  little 
horse,  "  but  thou  knowest  me  also  in  thy  dreams. 
For,  behold !  I  am  Death."  And  his  garments  fell 
from  him,  and  there  appeared  Smouldering  skele- 
ton, its  ghastly  head  crowned  with  serpents ;  that 
which  he  had  kept  hidden  under  his  mantle  was  an 
hour-glass  with  the  sand  almost  run  out.  Death 
held  it  towards  the  knight  in  his  fleshless  hand. 
The  bell  at  the  neck  of  the  little  horse  gave  forth  a 
solemn  sound.     It  was  a  passing  bell. 

"  Lord,  into  Thy  hands  I  commend  my  spirit ! " 
prayed  Sintram  ;  and  full  of  earnest  devotion  he 
rode  after  Death,  who  beckoned  him  on. 

"  He  has  thee  not  yet !  He  has  thee  not  yet ! " 
screamed  the  fearful  fiend.  "  Give  thyself  up  to  me 
rather.  In  one  instant,  —  for  swift  are  thy  thoughts, 
swift  is  my  might,  —  in  one  instant  t"hou  shalt  be  in 
N^ormandy.  Helen  yet  blooms  in  beauty  as  when 
«he  departed  hence,  and  this  very  night  she  would 


404  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

be  thine."  And  once  again  he  began  his  unholy 
praises  of  Gabrielle's  loveliness,  and  Sintram's  heart 
glowed  like  wild-fire  in  his  weak  breast. 

Death  said  nothing  more,  but  raised  the  hour- 
glass in  his  right  hand  yet  higher  and  higher ;  and 
as  the  sand  now  ran  out  more  quickly,  a  soft  light 
streamed  from  the  glass  over  Sintram's  countenance, 
and  then  it  seemed  to  him  as  if  eternity  in  all  its 
calm  majesty  were  rising  before  him,  and  a  world  of 
confusion  dragging  him  back  with  a  deadly  grasp. 

"  I  command  thee,  wild  form  that  foUowest  me," 
cried  he,  —  "I  command  thee,  in  the  name  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  to  cease  from  thy  seducing  words, 
and  to  call  thyself  by  that  name  by  which  thou  art 
recorded  in  Holy  Writ ! " 

A  name,  more  fearful  than  a  thunderclap,  burst 
despairingly  from  the  lips  of  the  Tempter,  and  he 
disappeared. 

"  He  will  return  no  more,"  said  Death  in  a  kindly 
tone. 

"  And  now  I  am  become  wholly  thine,  my  stem 
companion  ?  " 

"  Not  yet,  my  Sintram.  I  shall  not  come  to  thee 
till  many,  many  years  are  past.  But  thou  must  not 
forget  me  the  while." 

"  I  will  keep  the  thought  of  thee  steadily  before 
my  soul,  thou  fearful  yet  wholesome  monitor,  thou 
awful  yet  loving  guide  ! " 

"  Oh  !  I  can  truly  appear  very  gentle." 

And  so  it  proved  indeed.     His  form  became  more 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  406 

Boflly  defined  in  the  increasing  gleam  of  light  which 
shone  from  the  hour-glass ;  the  features,  which  had 
been  awful  in  their  sternness,  wore  a  gentle  smile ; 
the  crown  of  serpents  became  a  bright  palm-wreath ; 
instead  of  the  horse  appeared  a  white  misty  cloud  in 
the  moonlight ;  and  the  bell  gave  forth  sounds  as  of 
sweet  lullabies.  Sintram  thought  he  could  hear 
these  words  amidst  them  :  — 

"  The  world  and  Satan  are  o'ercome; 
Before  thee  gleams  eternal  light, 
Warrior,  who  hast  won  the  strife  : 
Save  from  darkest  shades  of  night 
Him  before  whose  aged  eyes 
All  my  terrors  soon  shall  rise." 

The  knight  well  knew  that  his  father  was  meant ; 
and  he  urged  on  his  noble  steed,  which  now  obeyed 
his  master  willingly  and  gladly,  and  the  faithful  dog 
also  again  ran  beside  him  fearlessly.  Death  had  dis- 
appeared ;  but  in  front  of  Sintram  there  floated  a 
bright  morning  cloud,  which  continued  visible  after 
the  sun  had  risen  clear  and  warm  in  the  bright 
winter  sky. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

"  He  is  dead !  the  horrors  of  that  fearful  stormy 
night  have  killed  him  ! "  Thus  said,  about  this  time, 
Bome  of  Biorn's  retainers,  who  had  not  been  able  to 
bring  him  back  to  his  senses  since  the  morning  of 
the  day  before  :  they  had  made  a  couch  of  wolf  and 
bear  skins  for  him  in  the  great  hall,  in  the  midst  of 
the  armor  which  still  lay  scattered  around.  One  of 
the  esquires  said  with  a  low  sigH :  "  The  Lord  have 
mercy  on  his  poor  wild  soul !  " 

Just  then  the  warder  blew  his  horn  from  his 
tower,  and  a  trooper  came  into  the  room  with  a  look 
of  surprise.  "  A  knight  is  coming  hither,"  said  he  ; 
"  a  wonderful  knight.  I  could  have  taken  him  for 
our  Lord  Sintram  ;  but  a  bright,  bright  morning 
cloud  floats  so  close  before  him,  and  throws  over 
him  such  clear  light,  that  one  could  fancy  red  flowers 
were  showered  down  upon  him.  Besides,  his  horse 
has  a  wreath  of  red  leaves  on  his  head,  which  was 
never  a  custom  of  the  son  of  our  dead  lord." 

"  Just  such  a  one,"  replied  another,  "  I  wove  for 
him  yesterday.  He  was  not  pleased  with  it  at  first, 
but  afterwards  he  let  it  remain." 

«"But  why  didst  thou  that  ?  " 


SINTRAM  AND  H'lS  COMPANIONS  407 

**  It  seemed  to  me  as  if  I  heard  a  voice  singing 
again  and  again  in  my  ear :  *  Victory !  victory  !  the 
noblest  victory  !  The  knight  rides  forth  to  victory  ! ' 
And  then  I  saw  a  branch  of  our  oldest  oak-tree 
stretched  towards  me,  which  had  kept  on  almost  all 
its  red  and  yellow  leaves  in  spite  of  the  snow.  So  I 
did  according  to  what  I  had  heard  sung;  and  I 
plucked  some  of  the  leaves,  and  wove  a  triumphal 
wreath  for  the  noble  war-horse.  At  the  same  time 
Skovmark,  —  you  know  that  the  faithful  beast  had 
always  a  great  dislike  to  Biorn,  and  therefore  had 
gone  to  the  stable  with  the  horse,  —  Skovmark 
jumped  upon  me,  fawning,  and  seemed  pleased,  as 
if  he  wanted  to  thank  me  for  my  work ;  and  such 
noble  animals  understand  well  about  good  prognos- 
tics." 

They  heard  the  sound  of  Sintram's  spurs  on  the 
stone  steps,  and  Skovmark's  joyous  bark.  At  that 
instant  the  supposed  corpse  of  old  Biorn  sat  up, 
looked  around  with  rolling,  staring  eyes,  and  asked 
of  the  terrified  retainers  in  a  hollow  voice,  "  Who 
comes  there,  ye  people  ?  who  comes  there  ?  I  know 
it  is  my  son.  But  who  comes  with  him  ?  The 
answer  to  that  bears  the  sword  of  decision  in  its 
mouth.  For  see,  good  people,  Gotthard  and  Rud- 
lieb  have  prayed  much  for  me ;  yet  if  the  little  Mas- 
ter come  with  him,  I  am  lost  in  spite  of  them." 

"  Thou  art  not  lost,  my  beloved  father ! "  Sin- 
tram's  kind  voice  was  heard  to  say,  as  he  softly 
opened  the  door,  and  the  bright  red  morning  cloud 
floated  in  with  him. 


408  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

Biorn  joined  his  hands,  cast  a  look  of  thankfiihiess 
up  to  heaven,  and  said,  smiling,  "Yes,  praised  be 
God  !  it  is  the  right  companion  I  It  is  sweet  gentle 
Death !  "  And  then  he  made  a  sign  to  his  son  to  ap- 
proach, saying,  "  Come  here,  my  deliverer ;  come, 
blessed  of  the  Lord,  that  I  may  relate  to  thee  all 
that  has  passed  within  me." 

As  Sintram  now  sat  close  by  his  father's  couch, 
all  who  were  in  the  room  perceived  a  remarkable 
and  striking  change.  For  old  Biorn,  whose  whole 
countenance,  and  not  his  eyes  alone,  had  been  wont 
to  have  a  fiery  aspect,  was  now  quite  pale,  almost 
like  white  marble ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
cheeks  of  the  once  deadly  pale  Sintram  glowed  with 
a  bright  bloom  like  that  of  early  youth.  It  was 
caused  by  the  morning  cloud  which  still  shone  upon 
him,  whose  presence  in  the  room  was  rather  felt 
than  seen ;  but  it  produced  a  gentle  thrill  in  every 
heart. 

"  See,  my  son,"  began  the  old  man,  softly  and 
mildly,  "  I  have  lain  for  a  long  time  in  a  death-like 
sleep,  and  have  known  nothing  of  what  was  going 
on  around  me ;  but  within  —  ah !  within,  I  have 
known  but  too  much !  I  thought  that  my  soul  would 
be  destroyed  by  the  eternal  anguish ;  and  yet  again 
I  felt,  with  much  greater  horror,  that  my  soul  was 
eternal  like  that  anguish.  Beloved  son,  thy  cheeks 
that  glowed  so  brightly  are  beginning  to  grow  pale 
at  my  words.  I  refrain  from  more.  But  let  me  re- 
late to  you  something  more  cheering.    Far,  far  away, 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  409 

I  could  see  a  bright  lofty  church,  where  Gotthard 
and  Rudlieb  Lenz  were  kneeling  and  praying  for  me. 
Gotthard  had  grown  very  old,  and  looked  almost 
like  one  of  our  mountains  covered  with  snow,  on 
which  the  sun,  in  the  lovely  evening  hours,  is  shining 
and  Rudlieb  was  also  an  elderly  man,  but  very  vigor* 
ous  and  very  strong ;  and  they  both,  with  all  their 
strength  and  vigor,  were  calling  upon  God  to  aid  me, 
their  enemy.  Then  I  heard  a  voice  like  that  of  an 
angel,  saying :  '  His  son  does  the  most  for  him !  He 
must  this  night  wrestle  with  Death  and  with  the 
fallen  one  !  His  victory  will  be  victory,  and  his  de- 
feat will  be  defeat,  for  the  old  man  and  himself.* 
Thereupon  I  awoke  ;  and  I  knew  that  all  depended 
upon  whom  thou  wouldst  bring  with  thee.  Thou 
hast  conquered.  Next  to  God,  the  praise  be  to 
thee!" 

"  Gotthard  and  Rudlieb  have  helped  much,"  re- 
plied Sintram ;  "  and,  beloved  father,  so  have  the 
fervent  prayers  of  the  chaplain  of  Drontheim.  I 
felt,  when  struggling  with  temptation  and  deadly 
fear,  how  the  heavenly  breath  of  holy  men  floated 
round  me  and  aided  me." 

"  I  am  most  willing  to  believe  that,  my  noble  son, 
and  everything  thou  sayest  to  me,"  answered  the  old 
man ;  and  at  the  same  moment  the  chaplain  also 
coming  in,  Biorn  stretched  out  his  hand  towards  him 
with  a  smile  of  peace  and  joy.  And  now  all  seemed 
to  be  surrounded  with  a  bright  circle  of  unity  and 
blessedness.     "  But  see,"  said  old  Biorn,  "  how  the 


410  SINTRAM  AND  HIS    COMPANIONS. 

faithful  Skovmark  jumps  upon  me  now,  and  tries  to 
caress  me.  It  is  not  long  since  he  used  always  to 
howl  with  terror  when  he  saw  me." 

"My  dear  lord,"  said  the  chaplain,  "there  is  a 
spirit  dwelling  in  good  beasts,  though  dreamy  and 
unconscious," 

As  the  day  wore  on,  the  stillness  in  the  hall  in- 
creased. The  last  hour  of  the  aged  knight  was 
drawing  near,  but  he  met  it  calmly  and  fearlessly. 
The  chaplain  and  Sintram  prayed  beside  his  couch. 
The  retainers  knelt  devoutly  around.  At  length  the 
dying  man  said :  "  Is  that  the  prayer-bell  in  Yerena's 
cloister  ?  "  Sintram's  looks  said  yea  ;  while  warm 
tears  fell  on  the  colorless  cheeks  of  his  father.  A 
gleam  shone  in  the  old  man's  eyes,  the  morning 
cloud  stood  close  over  him,  and  then  the  gleam,  the 
morning  cloud,  and  life  with  them,  departed  from 
him. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

A  PEW  days  afterwards  Sintram  stood  in  the  par- 
lor of  the  convent,  and  waited  with  a  beating  heart 
for  his  mother  to  appear.  He  had  seen  her  for  the 
last  time  when,  a  slumbering  child,  he  had  been 
awakened  by  her  warm  farewell  kisses,  and  then  had 
fallen  asleep  again,  to  wonder  in  his  dream  what  his 
mother  had  wanted  with  him,  and  to  seek  her  in 
vain  the  next  morning  in  the  castle  and  in  the  gar- 
den. The  chaplain  was  now  at  his  side,  rejoicing  in 
the  chastened  rapture  of  the  knight,  whose  fierce 
spirit  had  been  softened,  on  whose  cheeks  a  light 
reflection  of  that  solemn  morning  cloud  yet  lin- 
gered. 

The  inner  doors  opened.  In  her  white  veil, 
stately  and  noble,  the  lady  Verena  came  forward, 
and  with  a  heavenly  smile  she  beckoned  her  son  to 
approach  the  grating.  There  could  be  no  thought 
here  of  any  passionate  outbreak,  whether  of  sorrow 
or  of  joy.^  The  holy  peace  which  had  its  abode 
within   these  walls  would  have  found  its  way  to  a 

i  "  In  whose  sweet  presence  sorrow  dares  not  lower, 
Nor  expectation  rise 
Too  high  for  earth."  —  Christian  Tear. 


412  SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

heart  less  tried  and  less  purified  than  that  which 
beat  in  Sintram's  bosom.  Shedding  some  placid 
tears,  the  son  knelt  before  his  mother,  kissed  her 
flowing  garments  through  the  grating,  and  felt  as  if 
in  paradise,  where  every  wish  and  every  care  is 
hushed.  "  Beloved  mother,"  said  he,  "  let  me  be- 
come a  holy  man,  as  thou  art  a  holy  woman.  Then 
I  will  betake  myself  to  the  cloister  yonder ;  and 
perhaps  I  might  one  day  be  deemed  worthy  to  be 
thy  confessor,  if  illness  or  the  weakness  of  old  age 
should  keep  the  good  chaplain  within  the  castle  of 
Drontheim." 

"  That  would  be  a  sweet,  quietly-happy  life,  my 
good  child,"  replied  the  lady  Verena ;  "  but  such  is 
not  thy  vocation.  Thou  must  remain  a  bold,  power- 
ful knight,  and  thou  must  spend  the  long  life,  which 
is  almost  always  granted  to  us  children  of  the  north, 
in  succoring  the  weak,  in  keeping  down  the  lawless, 
and  in  yet  another  more  bright  and  honorable  em- 
ployment which  I  hitherto  rather  honor  than  know." 

"  God's  will  be  done ! "  said  the  knight,  and  he 
rose  up  full  of  self-devotion  and  firmness. 

"  That  is  my  good  son,"  said  the  lady  Verena. 
"  Ah  !  how  many  sweet  calm  joys  spring  up  for  us  ! 
See  already  is  our  longing  desire  of  meeting  again 
satisfied,  and  thou  wilt  never  more  be  so  entirely 
estranged  from  me.  Every  week  on  this  day  thou 
wilt  come  back  to  me,  and  thou  wilt  relate  what  glo- 
rious deeds  thou  hast  done,  and  take  back  with  thee 
my  advice  and  my  blessing." 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  413 

"  Am  I  not  once  more  a  good  and  happy  child ! " 
cried  Sintram  joyously ;  "  only  that  the  merciful 
God  has  given  me  in  addition  the  strength  of  a  man 
in  body  and  spirit.  '  Oh,  how  blessed  is  that  son  to 
whom  it  is  allowed  to  gladden  his  mother's  heart 
with  the  blossoms  and  the  fruit  of  his  life  !  " 

Thus  he  left  the  quiet  cloister's  shade,  joyful  in 
spirit  and  richly  laden  with  blessings,  to  enter  on  his 
noble  career.  He  was  not  content  with  going  about 
wherever  there  might  be  a  rightful  cause  to  defend 
or  evil  to  avert;  the  gates  of  the  now  hospitable 
castle  stood  always  open  also  to  receive  and  shelter 
every  stranger ;  and  old  Rolf,  who  was  almost  grown 
young  again  at  the  sight  of  his  lord's  excellence,  was 
established  as  seneschal.  The  winter  of  Sintram's 
life  set  in  bright  and  glorious,  and  it  was  only  at 
times  that  he  would  sigh  within  himself  and  say, 
"  Ah,  Montfaucon !  ah,  Gabrielle  !  if  I  could  dare  to 
hope  that  you  have  quite  forgiven  me !  " 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

The  spring  had  come  in  its  brightness  to  the 
northern  lands,  when  one  morning  Sintram  turned 
his  horse  homewards,  after  a  successful  encounter 
with  one  of  the  most  formidable  disturbers  of  the 
peace  of  his  neighborhood.  His  horsemen  rode 
after  him,  singing  as  they  went.  As  they  drew  near 
the  castle,  they  heard  the  sound  of  joyous  notes 
wound  on  the  horn.  "  Some  welcome  visitor  must 
have  arrived,'*  said  the  knight ;  and  he  spurred  his 
horse  to  a  quicker  pace  over  the  dewy  meadow. 
While  still  at  some  distance,  they  descried  old  Rolf, 
busily  engaged  in  preparing  a  table  for  the  morning 
meal,  under  the  trees  in  front  of  the  castle-gates. 
From  all  the  turrets  and  battlements  floated  banners 
and  flags  in  the  fresh  morning  breeze :  esquires  were 
running  to  and  fro  in  their  gayest  apparel.  As  soon 
as  the  good  Rolf  saw  his  master,  he  clapped  his 
hands  joyfully  over  his  gray  head,  and  hastened  into 
the  castle.  Immediately  the  wide  gates  were  thrown 
open ;  and  Sintram,  as  he  entered,  was  met  by  Roll, 
whose  eyes  were  filled  with  tears  of  joy  while  he 
pointed  towards  three  noble  forms  thnt  were  follow- 
ing him. 


SINTRAM  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS.  415 

Two  men  of  high  stature  —  one  in  extreme  old 
age,  the  other  gray-headed,  and  both  remarkably 
alike  —  were  leading  between  them  a  fair  young 
boy,  in  a  page's  dress  of  blue  velvet,  richly  embroid- 
ered with  gold.  The  two  old  men  wore  the  dark 
velvet  dress  of  German  burghers,  and  had  massive 
gold  chains  and  large  shining  medals  hanging  round 
their  necks. 

Sintram  had  never  before  seen  his  honored  guests, 
and  yet  he  felt  as  if  they  were  well  known  and 
valued  friends.  The  very  aged  man  reminded  him 
of  his  dying  father's  words  about  the  snow-covered 
mountains  lighted  up  by  the  evening  sun  ;  and  then 
he  remembered,  he  could  scarcely  tell  how,  that  he 
had  heard  Folko  say  that  one  of  the  highest  moun- 
tains of  that  sort  in  his  southern  land  was  called  the 
St.  Gotthard.  And  at  the  same  time,  he  knew  that 
the  old  but  yet  vigorous  man  on  the  other  side  was 
named  Rudlieb.  But  the  boy  who  stood  between 
them  ;  ah !  Sintram's  humility  dared  scarcely  form  a 
hope  as  to  who  he  might  be,  however  much  his  fea- 
tures, so  noble  and  soft,  called  up  two  highly  hon- 
ored images  before  his  mind. 

Then  the  aged  Gotthard  Lenz,  the  king  of  old 
men,  advanced  with  a  solemn  step,  and  said  :  "  This 
is  the  noble  boy  Engeltram  of  Montfaucon,  the 
only  son  of  the  great  baron  ;  and  his  father  and 
mother  send  him  to  you.  Sir  Sintram,  knowing  well 
your  holy  and  glorious  knightly  career,  that  you  may 
bring  him  up  to  all  the  honorable  and  valiant  deeds 


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